Absolute Power
by Kazzy
Summary: The Centre is kidnapping children again for the pretender project, but this one already has connections with the Centre, although she (and almost everyone else) is unaware of it. There is also a plan for new pretenders. Chps 1-8 completely re-written! New
1. Chapter One

**Spoilers – **up to inner sense (incl.)  
**Summary –** The Centre is kidnapping children again for the pretender project but this one already has connections with the Centre, although she (and almost everyone else) is unaware of it. There is also a plan for more pretenders. MPJFMPJR (eventually)  
**Disclaimer: **You know the drill. Those you recognise (Miss Parker, Jarod, Sydney, Broots, Ethan etc etc) aren't mine. Catherine Zealth, her friends and family are. But please don't sue; I don't get any money out of this. I'm just doing this for the enjoyment of others, and myself.

**Notes – **OK, this has been going on for ages. Good news is a plan to finish it. Eventually.

I've seen the first movie, but not the second. When I started writing this neither had aired (yes, it was _that_ long ago). So earlier chapters contain nothing of it, and later ones will include aspects if I think they'll add to what I've got. Other than that, there are **_no spoilers for either movie_**.

I started writing this four years ago, when I was seventeen. The quality of my writing (including some truly atrocious dialogue) will display this. I've cleaned it up, but it's still mostly intact from the original. The later chapters will display a better quality of work (I hope).

For a short explanation of New Zealand schools (which is where Cat lives) look beneath the fic.

**Time Frame – **Several weeks after the bombing.

* * *

**Chapter One**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_"Power corrupts, but absolute power corrupts absolutely."_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Catherine Zealth sat in the common room at her boarding school, she picked up her cup of coffee drained the last of it and set it down again. A few minutes later she picked the cup up, brought it to her lips and tipped it back, she was mildly surprised to find it empty. Her two best friends Alexie Johnstone and Sarah Rendall regarded her with some amusement, as she glared into the empty cup.

"It's gone Cat." Alexie informed her with a grin.

"Uh, I want more, and that was my second cup, in the last hour, so can anyone spot the caffeine freak," groaned Catherine.

"Yeah, but we love you anyway," said Sarah. "Caffeine Freak."

"I can't believe you guys actually talked me into watching this crap," Catherine indicated the daytime soap they had recorded, and were now watching. "And now I'm hooked, it's disgusting."

Alexie and Sarah just grinned at each other. The three had been friends ever since they had arrived at school as new third formers, along with the rest of their form. They had been in a dorm together and had been inseparable since, although they lived just about as far apart as you could get with out leaving the country.

Just then Catherine glanced down at her watch. "Damn, gotta go to tutoring."

"Don't know why you put up with the little turds, Cat," Alexie said.

"Coz, one of them is my little sister and Mum would have my hide if I didn't help her, although god knows why she can't go to her teachers. That's what I would do." Cat looked somewhat annoyed.

"Yeah, but since when did you need tutoring Cat? You could probably teach all your subjects," Alexie replied.

"And all the others," added Sarah.

Halfway to the small kitchenette that was part of their common room, Catherine turned around. "Shhh," she said angrily.

"Relax, Cat. There's no one around to hear," Sarah hastened to reassure her friend, who was rather touchy about her rather extraordinary ability to achieve perfect marks with out even trying.

"And it's not our fault that you're an amazing genius. I still don't understand why you don't let yourself get perfect marks. You should be in Uni doing a degree, or lecturing, or something, not wasting time making sure that your marks aren't _too_ perfect." Alexis told her friend. Cat's insistence in not standing out too much academically had always puzzled her.

"Because, Lex, if I average any higher than eighty per cent, it attracts attention. I become not just an extraordinarily bright student, but a genius – as you so called me – and I want to at least appear normal, if not feel so. Only you two and my family know otherwise. Besides I have this feeling that if I told anyone, that something bad will happen." Cat had become used to trusting her instincts. They had always been right so far, and so when she had told Lex and Sarah, it had been a huge risk on her part.

"What could possibly happen? I mean who cares? It's not as though you'd get kidnapped by something secret agencies and exploited by them. That sort of thing doesn't happen in real life, Cat. Get real," snapped Sarah.

For long moments, nothing happened. Cat just watched her friends with an unreadable expression. "I have to go," the young genius said shortly, and left.

"Whoa," said Alexie, once Cat had left.

"I know. I don't understand why she's so touchy about being a genius. I mean if I had to worry about not getting too high in an exam, rather than having to worry about _actually_ passing, my life would be so much easier," sighed Sarah.

"You'll pass and pass easily Ser, same as me. We may not be in Cat's league, but neither of us is dumb. Still, I know what you mean," agreed Alexie. "What do you want to watch now?"

"Umm, is there still that episode of _Roswell_ from the other night? The one that we haven't watched yet?"

-x-x-x-

As Cat walked over to the library she sighed, she hadn't meant to snap at her friends, it wasn't their fault. It was just that she had been on edge for a few days and it was making her jumpy. Anyway, she had to tutor her kid sister and some of her friends in maths, English and whatever else they came up with her to do, and knowing them it would take up until dinner.

Natalie wasn't her real sister, just like Alicia wasn't, and Ryan and Mitchell weren't her real brothers. At least not by blood. They were real in every other way that counted; there was even a little piece of paper that legally claimed it. Her parents had adopted her when she was six months old. The fact had never bothered her much, she had always known about it, and she had always known that she was loved. Blood wasn't everything. As for her biological parents, well they must have had a reason for having her adopted out, even if it was just because they were unfit parents. Catherine was happy with her life as it was.

She turned into the library to find more than the usual amount of third formers waiting for her. Oh well, they did have exams.

"Right guys, what's up first?"

-x-x-x-

Later that evening Cat was sitting at her desk doing work, when Alexis and Sarah came in.

"Cat, we're sorry," said Sarah looking penitent. Alexie nodded in agreement.

"So am I. I shouldn't get upset like that especially with you guys, it's just that lately I've been feeling . . . on edge and I took it out on you guys, and I shouldn't. So, um . . . sorry."

"Nahh, it's cool. Probably just stress for exams,"ii said Alexie with a grin, and Cat threw a glare at her friend. Exams just didn't stress her. Cat could pass them, no worries. "Watchya doing?" Alexie continued. "If you say work, I will kill you."

"OK, then I won't," said Cat agreeably, putting away her exercise book. Alexie objected to people doing work outside the set times.

"Come on you two, _Buff_y is about to start and we may have to fight the _Jackson's_ _Warf_ watchers for the TV. And Cat? Sorry, but me and Lex already watched _Roswell_ this afternoon." Sarah spoke in a rush as if she expected a protest or an argument. She got none.

"I saw it already, so no worries."

They watched _Buffy_ and then went to bed. Just before turning the reading light above her bed out, Catherine unclasped a locket from around her neck and looked at the two pictures in it. Her birth parents. It was the only thing she had of them and looking at the small pictures had always fascinated her. On some level, she would like to meet them. If only just to find out what they were like, what parts of her was theirs.

The man who had given her to her parents had left this with them for her. Cat wasn't sure why, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Smiling gently, she put the locket back on, switched out the light and drifted off to sleep.

She had no idea that, nearly half a world away, the woman in the picture – her birth mother – was examining a picture of her.

-x-x-x-

Miss Parker glared at the picture of a girl, aged 15, Catherine Marie Zealth. A Pretender who had been hiding out in New Zealand for the last 15 years, though she had been born in the States – right here in Delaware in fact. The Centre had just come across her whereabouts, and they wanted her.

Something about the girl's picture struck Miss Parker as being profoundly disturbing. Something that Miss Parker just could not place, no matter how hard she tried. And the girl's name was _Catherine_ of all ironies. Catherine.

"Who are you?" she whispered to the picture. There was something so familiar about the girl, but Miss Parker knew she had never met her before.

No response came from the smiling girl, who had no idea her life was about to be turned upside down.

Just then her phone rang.

"What?" she snapped down the line.

"Did you get the file I sent?" Jarod asked, briskly. Greetings and pleasantries were almost unheard of between them. Besides his call was expected, and he knew that.

"I did. Who is she?" Neither did Parker waste time. Who could guess when someone would interrupt?

"I don't know. I was hoping you would know. There is something familiar about her."

"What do you mean you thought I would know? I've never met her, and I'm not high enough in the Centre to be given anything on her. Please remember that I'm supposed to be catching you, I don't have anything to do with any of the other pretenders that may or may not be here."

"That's not what I meant." She wanted to ask him what the i _hell_ he meant by that, but she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer that she knew he would give. "But anyway, we can't let the Centre kidnap her."

"We? What exactly are you expecting me to do about it, Genius-boy? And if you say 'what your mother would have done' you can kiss your precious grey matter goodbye." Parker was rewarded with a deep, rich chuckle on the other end of the line. Then Jarod became serious again.

"I don't expect you to do anything yet, Miss Parker. Maybe nothing at all. But I'll send you some more information soon and let you know. You're seeing Ethan in a few days, aren't you? I'll send it with him."

"Do you think you should be saying that over the line? The last any of us needs is for him to be caught because the Centre gets to him through me." Fear at her own words stabbed through her. Few things in her world were secure. Parker would like to know that her brother was one of those things, she could trust to stick around. Yet Tommy's death was still fresh in her mind. Too many people had been taken from her, to isolate her from the world, to trap her in the Centre.

"The line is secure, no bugs. Catch you later, Miss Parker." That laugh again and then he was gone.

Parker scowled, she really wished he wouldn't do that, but the thought of seeing Ethan again cheered her. She was meeting him for lunch in two days time, in a café secure from Centre influence. Although it was a little too close to the Centre for her liking, he reckoned that because it was so close who would think of looking for him there.

_Supposedly_, he would want to be as far as he could get from the Centre. _Apparently_, Jarod would want to keep him as far as possible from the Centre, so no one would look for them there. Many hard lessons had taught Miss Parker that she could trust no one's instincts or reasoning – not even her own, but she wanted to listen to her brother's.

Ethan's closeness almost guaranteed Jarod's closeness, but that wasn't her concern at the moment. Or it was supposed to be, but nowadays she could hardly care. Jealous of the amount of time Ethan spent with Jarod and his family, she guarded her own time with him fiercely.

Parker rubbed her temples. She wasn't feeling well, and glancing at the clock she decided to go home, it was late.

Searching for Jarod these days was a joke. She could hardly bring Ethan's brother in now, could she? Her brother's brother.

Parker wasn't sure that she could drag Jarod back in anymore, anyway, not even to win her freedom. Somewhere over the last four years, she and Jarod had developed a symbiotic relationship, in part to discover their pasts, and it had only been recently that she had realised that sometimes she almost enjoyed it. Almost. Sometimes. Their newer relationship filled the gap that had been in her life since she and Jarod had been forced apart in their youth.

Dragging him in would definitely destroy that. Besides, she knew the Centre. It wasn't a place to keep anyone. Not even Jarod.

As Parker walked out of her office, it was a measure of how unwell she was that she didn't notice the shadow that detached itself from the other shadows to follow her. Deciding she couldn't face the elevator tonight, even if her mother hadn't died there, she took the stairs.

When she stepped out into the car park she realised how much worse she was feeling. At her car, she pulled out her keys and tried to open the door, but found herself unable to focus long enough to unlock it. Then with a moan, the always collect, always perfectly groomed Miss Parker fainted in an inelegant, un-Parkerish heap on the ground.

The sweeper who had been following her knelt down, checked for a pulse, nodded when he found one. He then spoke into his communications unit, "She's down and out."

"Very good, bring her in." Mr. Lyle's voice said on the other end. Willie smiled slightly and complied.

-x-x-x-

Catherine woke up slowly the next morning. It was lighter now in the mornings, but still not light enough to read her watch without opening the curtains or turning on the light; and as it was too far to her glowing alarm clock she had to turn on her reading light. By this time she was thoroughly awake. Groaning, she rolled out of bed; and rubbing sleep out of her eyes, she moved to her mirror.

A glance at her reflection showed that Cat looked exactly like someone who had just woken up. Bleary eyes and thick, dark hair mussed from sleep. Briefly, the girl considered the feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach and then discarded it as the remains of some forgotten dream. Nothing a shower couldn't fix.

Quickly unbraiding her long hair, she ran a brush through it and pulled it back up to keep it from getting wet in the shower. Grabbing her gear, Cat padded out into the corridor, which was just starting to stir into life.

She managed to grab a free shower before the morning rush, glad she was an early riser. The hot water felt good against her back, but strangely the feeling of ill omen didn't disperse. As it had no bearing on her current life, however, she decided to forget about it – maybe she was a getting sick, who knew? Hopping out of the shower Cat started to get ready for breakfast.

-x-x-x-

By the end of the day the feeling was still there. If anything it had increased, so Catherine decided she was definitely ill. She hoped that it was gone by the next day, as it was Market Day in the small town that her boarding school was situated. Although, by most standards it would be nothing short of boring, after a few weeks at boarding school, anything in vaguely different looked interesting.

"Earth to Catherine. Catherine this is your home planet speaking, please make contact. Cat? Cat!" Catherine came out of her reverie with a start to find Alexie and Sarah looking at her, concerned. Sarah, who had spoken, was shaking her gently.

"Wha-what?" was all she could manage at first and then she noticed they were wearing tracksuits, and remembered they were going running that afternoon. "Oh, sorry guys, it completely slipped my mind, but it doesn't matter, I don't think I'll come with you, I'm not feeling well."

"What an excuse!" responded Alexie.

Sarah frowned. "You do look a little pale . . . but come on fresh air will do you good."

"All right, but give me a moment or two to change." Maybe they were right. Maybe it would do her some good. _Maybe pigs will fly, but the punishing regime Sarah has us on should at least make me too tired to think of anything else._

As she changed, Cat caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, and noticed the locket that was perpetually around her neck. Taking it off, she opened it and stared at their faces for a moment before closing it and refastening it around her neck. She went out to go running with her friends, completely ignoring the fact that everything inside of her screamed at her to run, to flee for her life.

The fresh air hadn't helped at all: Catherine felt worse. But by now, she knew it was not the onset of illness. The feelings coursing through her were the sixth sense she'd had all her life. However, never before had she had such a strong reaction. The deepest fear she had ever felt poured down into her, and nothing could compare with it.

She stopped in her tracks. The three girls were round the back of the school, alone. Alexie and Sarah went on a few paces before realising that she wasn't with them. They turned back and Catherine saw their expressions change from questioning to alarmed when they saw her face.

"Cat, are you alright? You look like you are about to faint!" Sarah's eyes were wide.

Cat shook her head. "I feel a little . . . off. You guys go on, I'll sit out this lap and join you when you come round again." Reluctantly, her two friends agreed and left her.

Once they were gone, Catherine had no intention of sitting around waiting for them to come back. Right now she had to find somewhere to hide. Gaze scanning the area, she realised that there was nowhere suitable. Somewhere else would have to be found, and quick.

But it was too late. Almost out of nowhere the men came. They wore dark suits and dark glasses and carried guns, some of which they pointed at her, warning her not to run, not to scream.

So Catherine didn't scream as the handcuffs were snapped on her wrists, she didn't struggle as the bag was slipped over her, although she wanted to. She was shoved in a car and once inside and seated she felt a prick on her neck and she fell into darkness.

Just before she was completely out she wondered what her parents were going to think. /p

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

i The schooling system (at least examination-wise) has changed since I started this. The system I used was the one I knew, about two-three years ago. In this there were major exams at 5th form (year 11, approx US grade 10) and in 7th form (year 13, approx US grade 12). Cat and her friends are in the 5th form. The younger forms from 3rd form up often have exams as an indication of achievement. Cat's sister, Natalie is 3rd form (year 9, approx US grade 8), the other three siblings fall in between the two girls and after Nat. Another complication – New Zealand schools run from late-January to mid- to late-December. That's six weeks over Christmas and New Year. Plus it's a four term year with two week breaks separating each term.

_**Please review!**_


	2. Chapter Two

**Note – **Well, it's cleaner than it was. I think it could probably be cleaner still, but I'm working on it.

None of this has ever been beta-d so forgive me any mistakes. You can point them out to me – any type of mistakes. I'd rather be perfect than blissfully unaware. I promise I won't get mad. I like being disagreed with – it helps me work on my weak points.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
_"Power corrupts, but absolute power corrupts absolutely."  
_-x-x-x-x-x-x-

What woke Parker was the strongest feeling of terror and some how she instinctively knew it wasn't her own. A quick glance showed that she was not in her room at home, but somewhere completely different. Judging by the camera in her room, she was in the Centre.

An angry hiss escaped her lips and even though she knew it was futile, she tried the door. Which was, of course, locked. Also, her gun was missing. Wise. The first person through that door would have had a bullet in them.

It wasn't an entirely unpleasant room. For the Centre, it was downright luxurious, but it was still a prison. Wondering how she got there, Parker struggled to remember the previous night. At least, she thought it was the previous night – she was in an inner room with no windows, probably one of the Sub-Levels. If it was SL-27 there would be hell to pay, but as far as she knew that particular Sub-Level was still burned out from Sydney's bomb two years before.

Anyway. Last night. She had received a file from Jarod, he had called, she hadn't felt well, she had left her office, gone out to her car, she'd had trouble getting into it and then . . . she must have passed out. She scowled and wondered exactly what the Centre was playing at.

Once Miss Parker would have yelled for someone to get her father, but now she knew better, and knew that the lying bastard probably had something to do with this . . . whatever it was. Pacing and wondered whether Sydney and Broots would know something was amiss, and if they did, whether they could do anything about it.

Thinking about what had woken her she pulled from her pocket, where she had put it before she had left her office, the photo of Catherine. Unsure just how she knew, she knew that it was the girl's terror that had woken her. Which prompted a number of interesting questions like, who the _hell_ was she? And why had she been afraid? And why did Parker herself feel so connected to her?

Just then she heard the door and managed to hide the photo before anyone could enter. She looked up, composing her features into a look of icy welcome, the Ice Queen back in full force. Then she saw who it was.

"Lyle. I should have known." She greeted her psychotic twin brother. He was accompanied by a group of sweepers, which included Willie. At any other time she would have been amused, did they think one, unarmed woman was a threat? Then again it was _her_ that they had locked up. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Hello Sis, you really should eat the food left for you, you'll need to keep your strength up." Parker hadn't yet noticed the tray that had been left for her. Once glance at it though killed any appetite she might have had; slop with nutrients just didn't appeal.

"And why would I want to do that, Little Brother?" Deciding not to rip him to shreds just yet, some of the sweepers had guns aimed at her, and she had already had enough bullets lodged in her body to last a lifetime. Besides dead Lyle's don't talk.

"Lately the Triumvirate been getting annoyed at the rate we're losing pretenders." Parker could well imagine. Jarod, his clone, Ethan (although he wasn't strictly a pretender) and all the other bits and pieces that had been stolen right out from under their noses. Usually by Jarod, the king of all lab rats himself.

Lyle was continuing, "The loss of Mirage-"

"Mirage? You can't even refer to your own brother by his name, Lyle? That's pathetic." Miss Parker spat out.

"Fine. The loss of _Ethan_ was the final straw, the Triumvirate is demanding a pretender and since all our current ones have been 'affected' by the outside world, the Centre has had to create a new one." Here Lyle smiled, looking even more twisted than usual. "Using the genetics of two pretenders. Since you are the only female that they have access to and since Jarod was the only 'viable' male, well . . ."

Parker was frozen, unable to do or say anything, her mind desperately trying to process this piece of information.

Lyle smiled again, this time even more triumphant. "Congratulations Sis, in nine months time you will be providing the Centre with its newest pretender." Guns be damned, Parker threw herself at her brother. She had never been more furious; she just could not believe it.

Just before the sweepers dragged her off the stunned Lyle she managed to hiss at him, "They destroyed our lives Lyle. You're letting them destroy another?" Then she let herself be dragged away. All of them had their guns out now. "What?" she snapped. "You going to shoot the Centre's best chance at not losing all credibility in the eyes of the Triumvirate? And get me some real food, I'm not going to eat that slop." Parker figured that if she were the Centre's newest project she may as well have decent food.

As the group left, with a somewhat rumpled looking Lyle, she glared at them. Once they were gone though, it was a different story. Outwardly, she could not show what she was feeling, because of the camera, but inside she was screaming.

_Oh God, how could this happen_? She would spend the next nine months locked up in The Centre, until her child, the pretender, was born. After that she would probably die, or at least be re-educated. Parker was betting on the former, she had slipped one too many times when it came to the Centre's projects and secrets. Was this how her mother felt when she found out about Ethan?

Parker felt that everything she had gone through in the last four years, since Jarod had escaped, had lead up to this point. Damn Jarod. Although she had moved past the point in her life where she blamed Jarod for everything that went wrong, this wasn't some much a 'blaming Jarod' as a damning-him-for-all-eternity-just-because-he-exists.

Entertaining those thoughts for a while was enjoyable, but ultimately her mind turned back to her child. Her child. And Jarod's. Oh God, he was going to be so angry when he found out. Of course, that would be nothing compared to what she was feeling now, because under the fear and hurt, she was furious. They were trying to play God, and with her and her genes.

Meddling with life like that wasn't right. It hadn't been when they had created Ethan, using her mother and Major Charles. Nor had it right been when they created Dean, or kidnapped the children, or destroyed Timmy. Now they were doing it again. With her. And Jarod. She wished her mind would stop throwing that piece of information at her. She didn't want to think about its implications, what it would mean in the future.

Parker realised her thoughts were slightly off-centre, and that it didn't particularly bother her. The more off-centre the better, maybe then she might be able to tap into whatever pretending abilities she might or might not have. Either that or her mother's 'inner sense', which Jarod insisted she had. She smiled mirthlessly. _Yeah_ _right_. Even if she was an active pretender – which she wasn't – it had taken Jarod thirty years to figure out how to get out, and not even Ethan's inner sense could get her out of this mess.

So, she was stuck here, and there was no escaping. No doubt the Centre had come up with a good excuse to keep Sydney and Broots from guessing where she was. The only other person who would notice her absence would be Ethan, when she did not turn up for lunch tomorrow. Oh, and Jarod would notice there was no one to call and taunt at two am anymore, but other than that… it was funny really, Tommy had once commented on it.

_"All your mail is stamped 'Occupant'. Your phone number is unlisted and I have yet to meet one of your so-called friends," Tommy Gates snapped._

_"I have a life!" Miss Parker answered angrily._

_"Which you refuse to share. That's not a life Parker; it's a life sentence."_

He had no idea. And then her jailers had killed him.

Pain still flared whenever she thought of him as it did now. And he had been right. Look at her, with four people in a world of six billion who _might_ help her. And who knew if they could, or even would. Parker struggled to keep from weeping – she couldn't let them see her cry.

-x-x-x-

Miss Parker's disappearance was troubling to Sydney. Generally speaking, it took something of a momentous event to make her late. So earlier, when she had failed to make it to her desk he had become concerned. Concern that only increased when Lyle turned up to tell him that Parker had been transferred to a top-secret project, and that he, Lyle, would be working more closely with them in the hunt for Jarod.

Lyle had looked so smug during the interview that Sydney had known something was up instantly, and he had Broots looking for where she had possibly have been sent. Broots wide-eyed with the possibility that the Centre had done something nefarious to Miss Parker had hurried off to do his bidding, with only a trace of the technician's usual terror.

Tired of the inactivity, Sydney went down to Parker's office. He was alarmed to find it exactly as she had left it the night before, with nothing out of place. Even if the Centre had sent her somewhere, they would have cleaned out this office.

Moving around, Sydney tried to find some sign of where she was, but there was nothing. Noticing a small picture of Parker and her mother, he took it and carefully slipped it in his pocket. She would want it later. Just as he was about to leave, Sydney noticed an envelope on her desk with her name written on it in Jarod's handwriting. He picked it up and was about to remove its contents when two sweepers walked in, and was forced to conceal it.

"Mr. Lyle wants Miss Parker's office packed up, so her things can be sent to her," said one of the sweepers, crisply, without a trace of either suspicion or nervousness.

"I'm sure he does," replied Sydney and left.

Back in his office, he opened the file to find information on a girl, Catherine Zealth. There was detailed information on her and his heart sunk as he realised that she was a pretender. That was definitely cause for Centre's interest, poor girl. Taking in her place of birth, Sydney sighed when he realised that it was Blue Cove, although apparently she had had no Centre influence growing up. That was a relief – she was not one of Raines' twisted experiments then. Strangely, there was no information on either her birth parents or her adoptive ones. Also, where there should have been a blood type, there was a blank.

A pretender named Catherine. It was almost too neat. A coincidence? With the Centre, it probably wasn't. However it wasn't one he could understand. He'd have to get Broots to look into it, and ask Jarod when he next rang.

-x-x-x-

Parker was pacing. She was bored, very bored, and she could not have been in here for more than a few hours. They couldn't keep her in here for nine months, could they? _Don't be stupid,_ she told herself, _of course they can, they kept Jarod locked up for thirty years, what's nine months compared to that?_

__Jarod! Her thoughts kept returning to him. Ugh, it was not what she wanted, or needed at the moment. However it wasn't surprising really – for the last four years she had been paid to eat, sleep and breathe Jarod. To try and return him to the Centre. Sighing, she tried to come up with some way to escape, but nothing came to her.

_Surely Daddy… NO! _Her father could not care less about her. Oh, he might feel a pang of regret, but really he would not let his daughter's new status bother him terribly much. Mr. Parker was director of the Centre – he would have to know what was happening to her. The snake had probably ordered it. The bastard.

Parker's heart, though, still tried to tell her that he was her father, that he would never do something like this to his Angel. Even though she knew now that he would. She had seen that cold-hearted ruthlessness when Brigitte died. Even Parker, who hated the woman and had gone there to kill her for killing Tommy, didn't think Brigitte deserved such a fate. Mr. Parker couldn't care less that his wife, who he had supposedly loved was dead. He only cared that she had given him an heir.

Mr. Parker had had Catherine Parker impregnated against her knowledge and will. He had killed Raines to keep him from telling his daughter the truth. The list went on. Her father would use her if it meant looking good with the Triumvirate, their bosses in Africa.

She wondered what Sydney and Broots thought, what they had been told, what lies they had been fed. She hoped that they suspected something deeper than what they had been told. They, especially Sydney, should know better than to take the Centre's word at face value. Would they want to do anything about it? Sydney might feel a pang of guilt if he knew, but she knew she didn't really have a right to expect Broots' help. She had terrorised him so often.

But God help anyone who threatened either Sydney or Broots while she was locked up. She would rip anyone to shreds and feed them the pieces as they died for touching a member of her team. Well, she might just do that anyway. Parker's smile was feral. Revenge was a pleasant thought.

For some unknown reason, she also worried about Catherine, yet she knew she should just worry about getting herself out.

Her and the baby.

No, she could not think about that just now. Damn kid! Already it was like Jarod – always in her mind. Thinking about either was getting her nowhere, fast.

Parker knew that worrying about Catherine was as pointless as long as she was in here. Still, she felt such a connection to the girl. It was so _weird_, but she felt like she knew this girl, even though they had never met – Parker would have remembered that. She sighed. _Right Parker _focus_, you need to think of a way out of here. _

No matter how hard she tried though she just couldn't quite keep her mind on escape – her head was just too full of other thoughts.

-x-x-x-__

When Catherine woke she was on a bed in a small room, somewhere.

At first she was confused. She didn't know where she was, how she had got there. Then her memory began to return: the dread, the men in dark suits, the world finally fading to black. So here she was. Wherever here was.

The room had a bed, a table to chairs, three cameras that watched her every move, a mirror she was willing to bet was two-way and two doors. The table had a tray of food on it that looked even less edible than school food. The first door she tried was – surprise, surprise – locked. The second door led to a small bathroom.

A further examination of the room indicated no obvious means of escape, and apparently had been suicide-proofed, though she wasn't quite ready for that. Eventually, she knew she could figure a way out, but it appeared that she would have to be patient.

Deciding that she'd need to be a whole lot more hungry to even _consider_ eating the food left for her, she went back over to the bed. Pulling herself into a corner, she brought her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms round them and waited.

-x-x-x-__

When Sydney was summoned to Mr. Parker's office, he wondered what it could possibly be about. Miss Parker's absence maybe? He doubted it. Lyle had already taken care of that little piece of dirty work, but he wondered if maybe he could get any more information our of Mr. Parker on the subject.

Sydney and Mr. Parker had never seen eye-to-eye. Mr. Parker had never liked Sydney's friendship with Catherine Parker; and Sydney had long suspected that Mr Parker had had something to do with her death. Raines may have pulled the trigger, but Sydney was sure that Mr. Parker knew of Catherine's murder, at least. Moreover, even if the Centre director had loved his wife, he still would have killed her for the Centre's sake. But the real question was: would he do the same to his daughter?

The Centre stole souls and twisted them. Jarod and Miss Parker were the only ones Sydney knew of that had escaped with theirs intact, and neither were left unscarred. How many times had he stood back and watched one or the other of them struggle with their demons. Would Parker escape this time? Sydney was surprised to find that he didn't believe Lyle's story for a second. Too many lies had been fed to him for him believe them any more. Sydney hadn't protected Catherine Parker's daughter as he had promised her he would. And that fact had a power that almost killed him.

As Sydney entered Mr. Parker's office he thought he detected something like regret in the other man's eyes, though he could have sworn that the man had gone past regret a long time ago.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Parker?"

"Indeed I did Sydney. The Centre has a new pretender, and with Raines' . . . untimely demise—" it was all Sydney could do to keep form laughing out loud at that, Raines' death had been extremely timely for Mr. Parker, especially as he was the one who had fired the gun— "you are the best one to train her.

"Here's everything you need to know about her." Mr. Parker handed Sydney a file that, when the doctor opened it, he discovered that it was the same as the one he found in Miss Parker's office earlier that morning. The only difference was that this one contained a picture and he was caught briefly by the smiling eyes, which were a brilliant sparkling blue. But the thing that really held his attention was, once again, the name.

"Catherine?" he asked softly. He saw something in the other man's eyes, something suspiciously like – guilt?

"Co-incidence," was the reply and Sydney was slightly surprised that the man would acknowledge even that much.

"Isn't she a little old, for the Centre to take in?" Sydney asked, noting that she was sixteen.

"Well the Centre doesn't exactly have a lot of options does it? Especially after all its recent losses." The comment was a reprimand for Jarod's escape. Sydney was fairly sure the Centre could not blame him for Gemini's or Ethan's escapes. "At any rate a temporary solution."

_What does that mean? _Sydney shuddered to think. If, when, and how this girl became obsolete, what would happen to her? Did they have a pretender that they were waiting on? The Centre had a habit of disposing of that which it found obsolete. Poor girl. Poor, poor girl.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Please review._


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes –** I appreciate any and all honest opinions on my work.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
_"Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely."  
_-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Catherine looked up as someone walked into her room. She had been sitting in the same position for several hours now and her backside was going numb. The bed wasn't that comfortable.

The only people who had come in were two more men with no souls, who had changed the food and ignored her repeated questions. Now there was a fresh supply of gunk that strongly reminded her of the more unrecognisable meals from school and she hadn't eaten those either. So she was even more bored and just as clueless as to what was going on. A little hungry as well.

The person who walked in was an older, distinguished looking man and she got the feeling he had seen a lot of sorrow, a lot of dark things in his life. There was something different about him that was different than all the others she'd met here so far. She realised that this man had a humanness – a humanity – about him. Unlike every other person in this god-forsaken place, he had a _soul_.

"Hello Catherine, I'm Sydney," he introduced himself, and she was surprised at his accent. Belgium, maybe. The men who had taken her had had American accents, so was she in America or Europe? Or in New Zealand in a place run by multi-nationals?

"Hi," she said softly, just watching him for no other reason than to see if she could disturb him. Many people found her gaze disconcerting, and she always won staring competitions. The trick was to stare through people, not at them.

Sydney didn't disregard her stare, become disconcerted by it, or try to stare her out – all the things that most people did, but waited a moment before speaking again. "Why don't you come over and sit at the table?"

As it was a request, and not a demand, she complied. As she stood up, she grudgingly admitted to herself that he had won that round.

Sydney sat opposite her at the table. By shifting her chair slightly Cat was able to put herself in a position where she could see both doors, two out of the three cameras, and the mirror to her left. There was little she could do if anything happened. Still, she still felt better knowing that if she couldn't stop her attackers, she could at least know where they were and how they could see her. Camera number three was out of her line of sight, and she wasn't very happy about that, but she didn't see anything she could do about that. Yet.

"You should eat something." Once again, he didn't demand she did so, just suggest. This time she wasn't quite so happy to comply with what he was asking. Cat narrowed her eyes, but picked up the fork and began playing with the food. She finally managed to get some up to her mouth and she tasted it. Pretty bad. She only took a few more mouthfuls before pushing it away. Even though it had probably been more than twenty-four hours since she's last had a meal, she just wasn't that hungry.

"Do you know what a pretender is?" Sydney asked when she was done.

"Someone who isn't pretending to be a king."

"Do you know any other definition?"

"Um, someone who pretends to be something?" There was a question in her voice and she was becoming confused. What did this have to do with anything?

"That's a closer definition. If I said you were a pretender, what would you say?"

"Uh, I guess." When he seemed to expect more, she continued, "Well we all pretend to be something we're not." Now thoroughly confused, she shook her head. "I don't understand, what…?" she trailed off frowning.

"Would you consider yourself a genius?"

"Genius? No." Oh god. _Oh_ _god_. The apparent change of track confused her more, but now for the first time since Sydney had walked in she felt a flash of true fear. All of her life, for no reason that she could explain, she had hidden her incredible intelligence from nearly everyone, and now someone had found out and she was locked in a room, in god-knows-where with some strange man asking her about it. So she dissembled. "Smart – maybe. Genius – no. I'm not that good." Cat managed to force a laugh.

"I think you are. You are very good at hiding, at pretending to be otherwise, but you are a genius." Oh no, how did they know that? "A pretender is a genius who is able to become anyone they want to be, fit into any walk of life they want – or need – to. I think that would adequately describe you, don't you?"

"No." The word was barely a whisper. "No. No. No. No." Cat was really starting to panic. "I can't be here. I'm not who you say. I'm me. Catherine. I want to go home. Now. Please?" She could hear the hysteria in her voice and in some small part of her mind that was normal, sane she knew she was giving herself away.

Also, Cat knew she was shifting into the mode that was part of all living creatures, but humans usually suppressed: fight or flight. Slowly becoming conscious of this, she took a deep breath, and then another and then a third, effectively getting the panic under control.

"What makes you say that? I mean my average mark was always one of the highest yes, but I wouldn't say _genius_ fit. And I've never even done an IQ test. So…"

"When was the last time you had a blood test?" Sydney seemed intent on jumping from topic to topic, and Cat was beginning to think that he was working his way up to some big picture. Cat knew that she wasn't going to like that big picture. Of course she was the one locked in a room against her will.

"Ah, a couple of weeks ago. They thought I might have glandular fever. But I didn't."

Sydney sighed. "To be a pretender you would have to have a certain genetic anomaly in your blood. If you had this anomaly you would be a pretender."

"Oh." Catherine had given away enough information, she reverted to back to her usual way only answer questions, don't give any extra information.

"So would you say you were a pretender?"

Catherine shrugged her shoulders. Sydney was the one with all the answers, he should tell her if she was or not.

From then on, her answers were all short. All the while, she wondered what was going on, but assuming she had been kidnapped for her genius. As quickly as she could she began to assemble all the information she had.

She was born on October 12th, but there was no record of her life for the first six months, until she had been adopted. Someone had approached her parents, and even though her mother had been three months pregnant, they had agreed to take her in. All she had been left with was the locket with her biological parents pictures in it. Quickly now, her hand stole up to her neck, checking to reassure herself the locket was still there. It was.

Although he had not commented, she knew Sydney had noticed her movement. Questions apparently over for the day, Sydney left, telling her to finish her food and that he would be back the next day. Ignoring the gunk-on-a-tray, Cat moved back over to her bed and continued to work her way through what was happening to her, wondering if it were a dream or something. Everything seemed so movie-like.

Sydney had said that to be a pretender, and it didn't take a genius to figure out she was one, then she would have to have a certain genetic anomaly. This genetic anomaly would have to have been inherited this from her parents. You didn't necessarily get your intelligence from your parents, but Catherine knew that she must have in this case. So, assuming that her parents were the ones in the locket, then she would have got it from one, or possibly both.

Cat wondered if they had known that she would be one of these 'pretenders'. If they had known, they might have known she would be taken to a place like this if she were found and so sent her somewhere they thought she would be safe.

Nice thought. However, most likely her parents had not wanted a child so had given her up for adoption, and this was all some great co-incidence. But what about the first six months of her life? Maybe her parents had died, and there had been no relatives to take her in. Although, that didn't explain why she had been adopted by a couple that had not been in the market for a child. Then there was the whole locket thing, which had always seemed vaguely Annie-like. Thank god she was not a cute little red head, with curls.

This was nothing Cat hadn't thought of before, but now this place had given everything a new angle. The girl got the feeling, though, that there would be a whole lot more before she found out the truth.

-x-x-x-

Sydney frowned as she left Catherine's room. The girl was hard to read. When he had entered the room, he had surprised to find her expression wary, rather than fearful. She had panicked when he had accused her of being a pretender. This suggested that even if she had never come across the term, she knew what she was and had at least an inkling of what it could mean. Finally, she had faded into her own little world, only giving the shortest of answers.

Sighing, he wondered if there was anything he could do to help her. For more than thirty years, he had turned a blind eye to Jarod's plight. Somehow, he'd managed to convince himself that Jarod belonged in the Centre, and that they were doing good. Of course, he'd known better, but he had still done nothing. Sydney had not even protected Catherine Parker's daughter – and that was the one thing she had asked of him, just before she had supposedly died in that elevator.

_Promise me Sydney, swear to me, that you'll protect her. _

He had no excuse for not helping that girl. No, he didn't even have his delusions to hang on to. He hadn't saved Miss Parker or Jarod, but he'd be damned if there was nothing he could do for this one. For now, though, he had a report to make to Mr. Parker and he had better make it favourable – the Centre had no room for failure. In many ways, it was a wonder Sydney had survived as long as he had.

-x-x-x-

Parker was late. She had promised to be here and Ethan didn't see nearly enough of his sister for his liking. Now he was missing out on seeing her, but more than that, he was worried about her. His voices or 'inner sense' was whispering, but his mother's voice, so like his sister's, was clear. __

_Help_ _her_.

And that alarmed him more than anything. Ethan's family was so important to him.

Raines had killed the people he had been brought up to believe were his parents. Ethan had loved them and Raines had killed them to break the hold that love had. The young man remembered how angry and afraid he'd been when he'd found them shot.

Jarod had turned up then – before Ethan had known that Jarod was his brother, before Jarod had known. Only Emily had known, and she'd been half-conscious.

Ethan had been so upset that he couldn't listen to the reasoning in Jarod's voice, or the comforting whisper of the only voice that he liked. So with the prompting of the voices that it had been Jarod who had killed them, that he could only trust Raines, he had pushed Jarod and himself down the stairs.

_"You did this," Ethan accused, grief and anger heavy on his tone._

_"No, I swear I didn't do this." Jarod's voice was filled with his own grief, and sorrow for the other man, but Ethan couldn't hear it. All he could hear was what the voices told him – that his parents were dead and their murderer stood in front of him._

_"You hurt them." In his own rage and pain, Ethan once again missed the look of horror on Jarod's face. The younger man yelled and threw himself at Jarod and both tumbled down the stairs. Ethan, having slightly more warning to the fall, recovered and leapt up pointing a gun at Jarod._

_"Why? Why?!" he shouted trying to find meaning at such a senseless act._

_"Ethan, I didn't hurt them. I swear I did not kill them."_

_The voices whispered again to Ethan. "Somebody hurt them. Somebody killed my parents."_

_"Please let me help you." Later reflection would tell Ethan that Jarod felt only compassion for his unknown brother. Right now though, Ethan couldn't hear that._

_"Help?" He felt incredulous – why would this stranger help him?_

_"My sister, Emily, she followed you because she wanted to help you, that's all I want to do." The strange woman who had been following him? No. Raines said there were people out there who wanted to hurt him. If she had been following him, it wasn't to help him._

_"There's no help for me, not from you. There is only one person who can help me now."_

Of course he was wrong, very wrong, Raines did not want to help him, he only wanted to use Ethan to further his career. On the train, he found out who Jarod was, about his mother and then Parker had turned up sounding so like their mother's voice.

Ethan would always be slightly surprised that both his brother and sister had risked being blown up to find him and stop him from becoming a murderer. To them, family was just so important it had not occurred to them to not to find him and help him – even if it cost them their lives. Then he had met his father and found out about his mother. He was part of one of the most dysfunctional families that had ever existed.

How many people had a brother who was a psychopath and another who was a clone of an elder brother? Not to mention the truly phenomenal abilities that existed within his family. It was like something out of science-fiction novel – or a soap opera. But he was also part of a family that had been fighting for more than thirty years to be together. In his family, there was enough intrigue to keep them occupied for years to come.

Take for instance the relationship between his brother and sister – Jarod and Parker – what exactly was between them? He had managed to gather that they had been friends together at the Centre as children, but they had spent more than four years as enemies. How they reached that point, he did not know. At the same time, however, they had also spent the last four years working together (well sort of) to discover their mutual pasts.

Ethan had discovered that about a year ago, Jarod had had the opportunity to escape with part of the family he had fought so hard for, but had stayed behind to _save Parker's life_. He had given up his family and freedom to save the woman who had been hunting him relentlessly for three years.

Ethan was still unclear on the exact reason why Jarod had stayed behind. Was it for her sake that he felt he had to save her? Out friendship, or love, or was it just that he seemed compelled to help everyone that needed it. His father, Major Charles, had said it was because Jarod blamed himself for the horrors that the Centre had made him commit and he needed to make up for them in any way he could.

Deep down, however, Ethan believed that although Jarod had made it his duty to help those who needed it, Jarod loved Miss Parker – even if it would probably take him until forever to admit it. Also Parker loved Jarod, but that it would take her even longer to admit it.

Strangely, his voices had no comment, not even his mother's voice. So he had spent the best part of his time with his new family, trying to figure it out. Caution on the topic was well recommended, though. As, if they were asked directly, both Parker and Jarod clammed up, fast. Both were so quick, that even his more subtle questions were usually met with blocks. However, he had been looking forward to seeing his sister to ask her more questions about their mother.

Which brought him back to: where was she? Parker was now more than an hour late. It wasn't just that Ethan wanted to see her, but that Jarod had some information he wanted to be given to her, and he had looked so serious that Ethan knew it was important. In the end, he decided to take the risk and call her.

When Parker did not answer, he began to really worry. His sister always answered her phone – yes, he had heard the stories about Jarod's two am calls to her. Quickly, Ethan left to find his brother. The Centre was up to no good – he could feel it in his bones.

-x-x-x-

"Jarod." Jarod looked up as his younger brother walked in. He had been searching for more information on Catherine. The only things he had been able to find was the meagre file he had sent to Miss Parker, a little bit more he had managed to glean from school and doctor files, and – most chillingly – a confirmation that the girl was now within Centre walls. Ethan's worry was obvious and he still clutched the file that he had been meant for Miss Parker.

"Ethan, what's wrong? Was it the Centre?" Miss Parker would never let the Centre near Ethan, but there were a hundred and one things that could have happened outside of her protection. 'Let' was not a word that was synonymous with the Centre. They did what they want. Absolute power.

Ethan shook his head. "I don't know. She didn't turn up to lunch." He handed the file back to Jarod. "But Jarod – something is wrong, I – she needs help, she – Ca – my mother told me." Jarod felt a pang of sympathy for his brother. Although he had a lot less trouble with his 'inner sense' than he had had with Raines, Jarod knew that it was still hard for Ethan to deal with everything that went on inside his head.

Jarod was worried now, too. Miss Parker wouldn't just not show up to lunch with her brother. Whatever else was going on, he knew that Ethan was probably the most important person to her. Partly because of his connection to her mother, but mostly because she wanted to spend time with her brother – someone she could trust and feel safe about trusting. The Centre had killed her mother, and twisted her twin beyond recognition, but she could be with Ethan. So much time had been stolen from all of them that they all knew the importance of it. Parker had had too many broken promises, too many lies told to her, to just blow off her brother. Beyond that, Jarod was very nearly positive that Ethan could hear Catherine Parker's voice, and that the pretender would trust more than anything.

"Are you sure? She may have just gotten caught up and been able to leave. Her father—" at this his voice deepened to a growl. Mr. Parker, along with Raines and Lyle made up the three people he hated most in this life "—might have found something most pressing to keep her there. Or Lyle. Or someone else. She may just be chasing a lead on me."

"No, there is definitely something wrong. She wasn't answering her calls and wouldn't she have called me?" Ethan's eyes asked if this was the truth – he still did not know his family that well, and Parker was somewhat…volatile.

"She would have called you if for some reason she couldn't meet you for lunch." Jarod reassured Ethan. And she would have. That was the problem.

Jarod tried her cell phone. He tried her at work. He tried her at home. Both her cell and work phones had been disconnected. Her home phone just rang, and he stayed on the line until the phone cut out. Then he tried all three phones again. The same. So Jarod did the one thing he had left: he called Sydney.

-x-x-x-

"This is Sydney."

"Tell me Sydney, is there a reason why Miss Parker is not answering her phones, or that she did not turn up for lunch today with Ethan?"

Sydney sighed. Why was he not surprised that his protégé knew of Parker's disappearance?

"I don't know, Jarod. The official report is that she is working on a top-secret project. Neither Broots nor myself have heard from her about this project, so it would have to be very secret indeed. And you say she did not turn up for lunch with Ethan? It isn't like her to that. Not with out saying so."

"The official story is that she is working on some top-secret project? When was the last time the Centre trusted Miss Parker's discretion?"

"I don't know, Jarod. The story doesn't ring true, especially as it was Lyle who told us this. He looked very smug. Whatever it is you can bet he knows, and that it benefits him in some manner." Sydney paused. There was something else he needed to tell Jarod. "Jarod," he began and then hesitated.

"What is it Syd?" Jarod asked, sensing the nervousness in the voice of the man who had raised him.

"What do you know about the girl – Catherine? Other than the file you sent to Miss Parker."

"Not a lot. Why? How did you find out about that?"

"The file you sent was left on Parker's desk and Mr. Parker gave me a copy of it – when he assigned me to her." Sydney waited for Jarod's reaction.

Jarod sighed. "At least she has you and not one of the ghouls that she could have got. Have you met her yet?" Jarod meant what he said. It was better if she was under Sydney's protection, if she had to be in the Centre. After Catherine Parker's death, Sydney had been the only thing standing between Jarod and Raines. Whatever anger the pretender had felt towards his mentor had long since faded. Sydney might not be perfect – he had hid himself from the horrors of the Centre for so long – but he had tried to at least keep Jarod from that monster, Raines. He would also do his best to keep the girl safe, and now he was aware of went on in the Centre, he might be more vigilant.

"I met her this morning. She is, of course, aware of her rather remarkable abilities, at least to a certain extent. She was particularly upset when I mentioned them – like she wasn't expecting me to know, like she did not want me to know. Understandably, she is very upset about everything, but not as hysterical as you expect. In fact, apart from one panic attack – which she recovered from remarkably quickly – she seems almost calm."

"She's going to need to be calm to survive in there. Sydney, that girl isn't a toddler, she's sixteen, people may think she has run away, but what if they don't? She is not nearly as impressionable as a young child, she wont swallow some story about 'helping people'. And she won't be as easy to train."

"I know Jarod. The Centre is obviously desperate, especially since the disappearance of Ethan. However, when they find something better to work on, they may just label her obsolete." __

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_That's all for now. I'm starving for some feedback though, please? _


	4. Chapter Four

**Note – **Chapter Four was written much later than Chapters One to Three. As such there is an improvement, but I still had an alarming tendency to write in sentence fragments, and my dialogue was still on the weak side. Re-writing this is like taking a trip through time.

Anyway, enjoy the improved version. It's not perfect, but it's better.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
_"Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely."  
_-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Alexie was exhausted. She had told her story so many times. To the school. To the police when they were called in. To Cat's parents when they arrived. Everyone asked the same questions: "Where is Catherine?" "Did she run away?" And then: "Who do you think took her?"

Initially, everyone had assumed that Cat had run away. Everyone, that is, except Alexie and Sarah. Repeatedly they had said, "Why would she run away? Cat was happy here. We should know."

The parents had been called: Cat's. Then the police were brought in. Then after Sarah's screaming fit about Cat not running away, her parents, followed by Alexie's.

Alexie had said over and over that Cat wouldn't run away. _Why?_ Because she was happy, she would have said if she wasn't. Yes, Alexie was sure, Cat told her and Sarah everything, like she and Sarah told Cat everything. _What happened?_ While they were running, Cat felt sick, so she sat a lap out, when they got around again Cat was gone. They didn't think much of it, maybe they were a little annoyed, but they thought she might just have gone in – she had looked awfully pale. Alexie and Sarah finished their run. No, they didn't think to look for Cat, she _would have said_ if anything were really wrong. Alexie had already _said_ that. The two girls had their showers, and then went to find Cat. When they couldn't, they didn't worry. After all, the school grounds were fairly large – there were lots of places you could go to get lost in, if you wanted to be by yourself for a while. _When did they worry?_ At dinner. Everyone was supposed to go and the matrons did a roll call. Cat wasn't there. So Sarah and Alexie spoke up. The grounds were searched. Then the local roads. No one – least of all Alexie and Sarah – knew where Cat was.

That was the story Alexie told over and over. The girl saw no reason to lie, embellish, or conceal the truth of anything that had happened. All she and Sarah wanted was their friend found safely.

Now Cat's parents were here and they were saying that their daughter probably _had_ run away. That Catherine _had_ been unhappy for several months, asking to come home. Alexie didn't understand. Cat was not unhappy, a little worried from time to time, but not unhappy.

It was wrong. Alexie knew it was wrong. Cat wouldn't run away. Surely the police knew that? Surely they believed Alexie and Sarah? But their expressions were clearing. The confusion was disappearing. They believed Mr. And Mrs. Zealth. Sarah and Alexie were obviously wrong – just two teenage girls who were either liars, or didn't really know the truth. Catherine Zealth's parents were good parents who obviously knew what they were talking about – they would hardly lie now would they? If they said Cat had been unhappy, then she had been.

Alexie dropped her head in weariness, too tired to even cry.

-x-x-x-

Sarah watched as Lex's shoulders slumped and she bowed her head. Sarah's heart went out to her friend, knowing how she felt. Lex had been so strong and so calm throughout the whole evening, even when Sarah herself had collapsed. She must be so tired now.

Mr. and Mrs. Zealth were telling the police that Cat had run away. _It's a lie!_ Sarah wanted to scream. But the young woman was done screaming. She had screamed enough today. Her mother took her hand, but Sarah felt it only vaguely. Everything was beginning to feel distant now. A little removed.

Lex's parents were not here yet. Cat's had only arrived about half an hour ago and were talking to the police while holding on to their younger daughters: Alicia, who they brought with them and Natalie who had collapsed sobbing into her parents arms. Their two sons were still at their boarding school, like Matthew, Sarah's brother.

Usually the parents of a runaway's friends were not called in, but they had as soon as Sarah had started screaming _Kidnapping!!_ Of course that would now be obsolete, because apparently Cat _had_ runaway.

"Officers? Mary? Patrick? Do you mind if we spoke to Alexie and Sarah alone for a few minutes?" Mrs. Zealth said to the police and Sarah's parents.

Sarah's mum and dad exchanged glances, then looked at their daughter. "Is it really necessary for it to be alone?" asked Sarah's mother.

"It won't be for long. Cat's told us some things, I believe that she would want the girl's too hear." The officer-in-charge said that perhaps it was best for her to hear what needed to be said as well. Mrs. Zealth agreed, but not until after she had told Cat's friends.

Sarah's parents reluctantly acquiesced, as did the police. It was surprising though that the Zealths sent their younger daughters out as well. Natalie protested violently, but in the end she left.

When it was just the four of them, they sat in silence with Sarah wondering who was going to break it. So many questions fluttered through her head and she could see that Lex was not going to ask anything. The fair-haired girl's head was still bowed and her expression blank.

"We're sorry." At the sound of Mr. Zealth's voice Sarah looked at her friend's parents and out of the corner of her eye saw Lex do the same.

"Cat wouldn't run away." Lex's voice was harsh.

"We know." Sarah felt her jaw drop at Mrs. Zealth's words. _But…?! _"I don't know how much Cat told you about her abilities. But I know she told you she was a genius and that she is adopted."

Sarah nodded. Cat's abilities they knew about, and that she was adopted. So what? What did that have to do with lying to the _police_ about Cat's kidnapping?

"We didn't tell her everything about her past. A family friend, who we hadn't seen in years, brought her to us one night, asking us to take care of her. We were told she was a pretender, a person with the ability to become anyone, to completely meld herself to one profession or another in a very short period of time. She was bred to be like that. Her biological parents both had a gene that when passed on could be used. Our friend managed to get her out of the place that created her, on the request of her mother, and away to us. We suspect those people have come looking for her."

"But I don't understand – why didn't you just tell the police this? You're not going to find her if everyone thinks she's just run away." Sarah believed them, but she was confused, surely it would be easy enough to identify where Cat was?

"Because the people that took her, are very powerful, very ruthless. If they suspect we know about them, they'll kill us all. You too." Mr. Zealth said, his tone almost gentle despite the harshness of his words.

"It all seems too sci-fi or too much like a movie, if you ask me." Lex's voice was still rough.

"Yeah," Mr. Zealth agreed. "But in this case, it really is the truth, and you're going to have to tell the police now that you think she ran away. Or those people will come after you."

Sarah didn't know what protest to make, and looking across at Lex, she could see the other girl didn't either. Sure it sounded so much like a movie, but it was real. Cat had always been so afraid of being found out to be a genius, and now that she was gone, it seemed her fears had been justified.

After that there was not a lot to say. Some secrets are meant to be kept, so Sarah and Lex told the police that Cat could have run away. That maybe they had been wrong, that they understood now that she had been unhappy. If only she'd told them, maybe they could have helped.

They would both keep this secret a long time.

-x-x-x-

In a very different place, Catherine Zealth sat and waited in the small room, which was apparently her new home, for Sydney to return. He said he wouldn't be long and that when he returned they would begin. _Begin what?_ He hadn't said. So, her curiosity piqued, Cat waited. Hoping whatever was they were going to begin would not be painful.

The young girl desperately wanted to go home. To be back at school. To be studying with her friends, or at least pretending (_argh, there was that word again_) to be studying. She wanted to call her parents to say hi, and talk to Alicia, the only one of the family who wasn't at boarding school yet. Wanted to be attending classes and doing normal stuff. But she was stuck here and here was boring. And Sydney seemed to be the only one who wasn't a horrible monster.

Cat wondered what his deal was. He seemed like a nice enough person and something inside of her said to trust him. So what was he doing here? A lamb among the wolves? He didn't really seem to be the lamb-type. That implied innocence and youth. Sydney wasn't either of those. But he wasn't a bad person. So, why?

The door opened and Sydney came back in. He smiled at her. She very nearly smiled back. "I've got something I need you to work on, Catherine. Do you think you can give me an answer?" he asked handing her a file of some sort. Was it her imagination or had he winced slightly when he said her name?

She shrugged. "Sure – you're the boss."

In the file there was some information on what appeared to be a complicated problem of some sort. A problem that was more complicated than she had ever done before. Looking at it in confusion, she could not see how to solve it, at first. A few moments later, after careful observation, she had it. The answer was actually very simple and she rolled her eyes at herself – she should have been able to see it straight away.

Catherine had not realized that she had just solved a problem that few people would have been able to. In less time that it would have taken all of them. However, it had taken her longer than both Jarod and Gemini, but then she did not have the benefit of a life's worth of training behind her.

When she had finished, she told Sydney her answer and then explained it to him when he asked, accepting his praise with a shrug. Bending her head down, she studied the next problem he gave her.

Really it was almost fun. Except it wasn't. If only the food had been better and there had been visiting rights – or better yet, a hometime. And she could get out of here and _never _look back. Because it was prison and a long way from home. Nice as Sydney was, he was still her keeper.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Wow. A really itty-bitty chapter. But leave a review. Tell me how pissed you are that this chapter is so short. I'd appreciate that._


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes – **About here, I went through another phase of giving this story a shot. I wrote chapters 5-7 in quick succession. A wonderful person, called Jak helped immensely (Hi Jak!), and I really appreciate her help.

I should take time to say that though I had seen the first movie at this point, I had not when I started writing. So, some of the 'inner sense' stuff I had to make up. I'm going to stick with what I came up with, but it isn't too different from canon, so you shouldn't have any problem following.

* * *

**Chapter Five**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
_"Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely."  
_-x-x-x-x-x-x-__

**5 months later**

Jarod had been working on a way to kidnap both Miss Parker and Catherine from the Centre. It was harder than he had initially thought freeing them would be. The Centre seemed determined to keep both under lock and key, with substantial amounts of guards. Plus the search for him, which had tapered off prior to the incarceration of Catherine and Miss Parker, had been stepped up. Lyle had once again taken up the active hunt for his archenemy, and was doing so with a vengeance.

Only last week had Jarod been able to put a definite location on Miss Parker. Catherine, of course, was easy to find with Sydney in charge of her case. However, it had taken the combined efforts of himself, Broots (somewhat more covertly), Devon (Jarod's clone), Ethan and Sydney.

Emily as it turned out, would never equal Jarod's pretender skills, but she was amazing at ferreting out information. She had tried to find everything she could abut Catherine Marie Zealth, adopted at six months of age by Peter and Karen Zealth. Schooling, doctor's records, but no blood tests until about six months before the Centre had taken her. The test was for mononucleosis and came back negative. For some reason, it attracted the Centre's attention and they managed to discover that she carried the pretender gene.

On closer look the adoption papers had been – very cleverly – falsified. Catherine was not truly the legal daughter of Peter and Karen. And no one knew of her origins. That was the one piece of information Emily could not dig up – where exactly in 'Blue Cove' was she from? The only certainty was that it probably had something to do with the Centre.

A lot of self-control had been needed to not rescue Catherine straight away. To do so meant that the chances of rescuing Miss Parker would decrease immensely, as those concentrating on Catherine would turn their attentions to the 'protection' of Miss Parker.

With the location of Miss Parker had come some alarming news. News that had shocked everyone – Jarod in particular – to the core. Jarod was inclined to say 'never in his life' could he find something so shocking, but all he had to do was look at Ethan or Dean. Or any number of the Centre's projects and realize that it was not so out of the ordinary. However, perhaps because of the nature of this piece of information, that it was so horrifying.

Miss Parker was pregnant. The Centre had made her pregnant. With Jarod's baby. All he could think about was how, when she next saw him, Miss Parker was going to skin him alive. And even though it wasn't his fault, she would probably find a way to blame it on him. Not that _he_ could blame _her_, if that's what she wanted.

Which brought him to the question – how was Miss Parker handling this?

-x-x-x-

Miss Parker was currently giving the mirror a death stare. The mirror was shooting it straight back at her. The staring contest was their morning ritual (or at least she _assumed_ it was morning). Miss Parker would get up to glare at herself in the mirror. It wasn't that she was particularly angry…okay, she was: at herself for being so stupid, at the Centre for doing this, at Jarod, just because she could.

She knew that she was not being fair to Jarod – it was not as though he was actually the one who knocked her up. However, she figured that out of everybody, he would be the most likely to understand. If she was not angry she would have to think, and thinking _hurt_.

Underneath all her carefully maintained fury, Miss Parker was scared and hurt. Hurt that that someone could do this to her and her child. Even though she knew it had been done to other women many times before, it was personal now.

In four months time, she would give birth and the Centre would take her baby away. Her baby. Her son. Parker would be damned if she let that happen, but she wasn't sure she could protect him from the Centre.

_Him_. A little boy. She shouldn't know that, but one of her doctors had been careless, letting slip the sex of her baby. Although, strangely, it had come as no surprise, like hearing the little tidbit had reminded her of something that had slipped her mind. Finding her son's name had been similar. Parker hadn't wanted to name him, yet she had. Sort of. Kyle Thomas Parker. Just like that. She remembered the discussion between her mother and Jarod before Ethan was born.

_"It's very important that she knows the truth about Ethan." Catherine Parker seemed edgy and unhappy, desperation colouring her tone._

_"Ethan?" Jarod, on the other hand, was looking confused, as if some finer point was eluding him._

_"That's what he told me his name would be." Her tone was smoother now, reassuring, but still carried undercurrents of her anxiety._

_"I don't understand. How could he know? How do you?"_

_"I call it my 'inner sense'."_

_"'Inner sense'?" For all his knowledge on a great many subjects, there were many things Jarod did not know._

_"For most it's the hairs on the back of your necks. Or the nervous feeling in your stomach. For me, it's voices I hear all around me, usually warning me of things about to happen." Catherine was more than willing to share with him. Someone needed to hear the truth, someone she could trust not to abuse her daughter with it. One day, hopefully the young boy sitting before her would be able to pass it on to Catherine's children._

_"Like souls talking to you." He was a bright, gifted child and she had known he would understand._

_"Something like that. I've been blessed with this gift, Jarod. And although she doesn't know it yet, so has my daughter."_

Knowing her son's name hadn't been quite like that for Miss Parker. No one – least of all her son – had 'told' her his name. It was just something she knew. She could have dreamt up the name in some fit of delusion. Whatever. Kyle Thomas was right. The name was fitting in some way, too. Five months ago, if someone had told her that she would name her son after Jarod's brother, she probably would have shot them. Several times.

Kyle had saved her life once though, or spared it at least. Maybe the broken man had let her live because of Jarod; maybe to spite Lyle; or maybe for some twisted reason of his own. He didn't have to. He had every reason to kill her along with Lyle. Parker was part of, and even represented, the establishment that Kyle hated. In the end, why he had spared her life did not matter. Kyle had done so, and there would be precious few people who would remember him. Besides he had died to save Jarod. Kyle deserved some kind honour, a remembrance, even if she wasn't exactly sure what prompted her to give it to him.

Thomas was after Tommy. Nothing short of an apocalypse would change that.

In the mirror, the woman was still glaring at Parker. This strange woman had dark bags under her eyes and was too pale. The once flat stomach now supported a bulge that squirmed from time to time. Former designer suits were jeans and tee-shirts or sweats, as her usual style would have been uncomfortable. Sometimes, however, it just seemed like too much of a compromise. It was harder to feel tough if you didn't look tough. So she practised looking mean by staring at the mirror long and hard everyday.

If someone in her situation could be called lucky, then Parker supposed that she was. Other expecting mothers (most of whom were surrogates) at the Centre did not dress, live, or eat like Parker did. After her initial outburst to Lyle, her food had improved, and was plain, but real.

Lyle had not been back to see her since she had attacked him. Something that simultaneously pleased and annoyed her. The pleasure was obvious: the less time spent with her psychotic twin, the better. At the same time, it was annoying as nothing was so distracting as taunting Lyle. When he pissed her off, she could spend her time thinking about what an idiot he was, how much she hated him, and how many ways she could kill him using a ballpoint pen.

Most of Parker's inner contemplation was a new thing. Until recently she had hardly let herself think about things, particularly about her son. For some reason, she had been given plenty of books to read, puzzles to complete, and she had a required daily exercise period. A computer sat in her room, without Internet access of course, but with a word processor (if they thought she'd keep a diary in it, they were mistaken), and several programmes, which she was willing to bet were carefully chosen to boost mental activity. Unfortunately, while most of the 'activities' were not quite like simulations, the similarities unnerved her.

A week ago, Sydney had come into her room, surprising her completely. No one had known what had happened to her. No one, of course, had been Sydney, Broots, Jarod and Ethan. Sydney had finally convinced Mr. Parker to tell him where she had gone. Miss Parker was touched that they had been looking for – and worrying about – her since she disappeared.

Sydney had been shocked to discover that she was pregnant, but less so when she had told him about the father. After all, it made sense. He had told her a little about the girl pretender, the one from the file Jarod had sent, Catherine. The good doctor told Miss Parker that he was a little worried that the girl, his new charge, ate so little and did not seem to sleep much. However, he also mentioned that she was a good pretender. Not up to the standards of Jarod or his clone, but that she achieved highly.

Something had changed though. Once Sydney would have spoken with pride about his latest pretenders accomplishments. Now he just looked sad. After what Parker estimated to be about half an hour – she had become good at estimating time – a sweeper knocked on her door and announced that Sydney's time was up. The older man had not protested, but before he left he had turned to Miss Parker and said, "It will be all right Miss Parker, especially now. Try not to worry."

Right then and there she had known that someone was going to help her escape. That's what Sydney had been trying to tell her. He had said they had been trying to find her, that they had been worried. Then he had said that it would be 'all right'. Parker knew Sydney well enough to know that nowadays her (and her son) staying at the Centre would not be all right by Sydney's standards. Plus, he had (indirectly) said that Lab-Rat was worried. Lab-Rat would be even more worried when he heard about the baby.

Sydney's visit had made a welcome change. Before, she had felt protective over her baby, but helpless and unattached to him. Now, while she was still very worried, she could let herself begin to bond with her son a little more. Perhaps that explained her finally being able to name him.

Furthermore, two unknown presences hovered somewhere in Parker's consciousness. All she knew about them was that one was female and the other male and they were real people. At least, Parker hoped they were real people. Both had only come to her attention when she had arrived in this room. So, whether or not their presence was…available to her before that remained a mystery. Occasional strong bursts of emotion were all she could get from them, unless she stayed very still – in mind and body – almost in a meditative trance. Then she could get more.

Neither presence appeared to be happy, although the female radiated a more definite unhappiness. From her it had originally been large bursts of anger, fear, frustration and sorrow, all of which had faded now to resignation, only to flare up at random intervals. Her terror had been what had originally woken Parker on her first day of incarceration. Far more tenuous was the connection with the male. He seemed less inclined to strong bursts of emotion and those seemed to be smaller bouts of frustration, fear and oddly enough, satisfaction.

Parker could not explain where these two people had come from or why she could suddenly sense them. They were simply there. That was all. Lonely and alone – much like Parker herself. Maybe that had been all it took to form the connection.

When she was bored, Parker would see how many of the emotions of the two that she could tap into. Lying back down on her bed, she relaxed and tried to reach them. From the male she just got a blankness that Parker interpreted as sleep. From the female – a girl she supposed – came a surge of intense agitation. Parker wondered what was wrong.

-x-x-x-

It didn't work! No matter what way she looked at it she just could not see the answer. Sydney said she should not force the answer, that it would come if she stayed calm and looked at the problem carefully. Still, she just could make the damned thing work out.

Where was Sydney when she needed him? The only time she felt even remotely safe was when he was around. Like he was protecting her, or at least shielding her or something. Plus he knew some cool techniques about calming yourself down.

Sydney had said Catherine would be meeting someone today. The young girl couldn't bring herself to be looking forward to it. Sydney was still the only person who she had met here that had anything resembling a soul and he was one of her captors so could not completely trusted or liked. Cat doubted that she would find anything good in her visitor – everyone was the same here.

Today was her sister's birthday, something she had managed to discover by asking several careful questions to Sydney about the date. Natalie would be fourteen and Cat would not be there to see it. Homesickness washed over her.

Prior to coming here, Cat had known homesickness, as whether you were happy or not, it was an inevitable sensation at boarding school. Nothing had prepared her for what homesickness would be like here. Here, it felt like you were drowning, like there wasn't enough oxygen and you just couldn't draw breath for fear of going under. Sleep at night stayed away, so you were denied that escape, and sorrow chewed at you until you were ready to die.

Cat's uneaten breakfast sat on a tray. Her meals were brought to her and left until the next one came. Sydney had learned that sometimes Cat might come back to a hardly eaten meal if it was left there, but that she would rarely eat them when they were set before her. As it stood she had lost a lot of weight. That, combined with sleep loss and sun deprivation, left her thin, pale and sickly looking.

Catherine wanted to go home. Her eyes filled with tears and the simulation sat, forgotten, in front of her. Who had jumped on Nat's bed at 6am to sing Happy Birthday? Cat needed to be there for her sister. It was nearly Christmas too. At home the weather would be warming up and the summer holidays would have begun. Closing her eyes she could almost feel it. Not quite beach weather yet…but soon. Slowly, a plan began to form in her mind and her tears dried.

Until now, Cat's head had been bowed, her hair obscuring her face. To the casual observer she looked like she was working on the simulation. Now she lifted her head and looked first at the two-way mirror and then at the three cameras. Nothing she could do about the mirror, but the cameras might just be set low enough…

Standing, she lifted the chair, testing its weight. Putting it down, she swung her arms in the air, testing the movement. At one of the cameras she swung her arms again, testing the height. Finally she moved back to her chair and proceeded to jog from one camera to the next, swinging her arms at each one. Testing the time, and hoping the idiots watching her did not catch on.

Pausing briefly at her chair, she picked it up and ran with it to the first camera. The pretender swung the chair up and smashed the camera, not off the wall, but with enough force to damage the feed. After repeating the process with the other two cameras, she threw the chair at the mirror – achieving nothing – and ran to the wall by the door. She flattened herself beside the frame and waited.

Very soon two men entered and didn't immediately notice her – after all why would she be standing there, out of their line of sight? She darted past them into the corridor.

Catherine knew her plan was ineffectual and would probably achieve nothing more than tighter security. Yet, for all she was a pretender, Cat was also a sixteen-year-old girl who desperately wanted to go home. So she ran.

For the last five months, she had been stuck in a room with little opportunity to exercise. However, when she had complained, Sydney suggested she do stretches and often in the evenings after she finished her work she would do laps around her room. Also, as she was more appropriately dressed than the two sweepers, her movements were freer and faster. Beyond that, desperation lent her speed.

With pursuit so close she had no time to stop and check the doors that lined the corridor she ran down. If she stopped she ran the risk that the door she checked would be locked or have no other access, trapping her. So she ran. Looking back later, she would realize that she had been obeying instinct, letting herself be guided. Right at that second, though, the world had shrunk, and she could focus only on flight.

At the end of the corridor, Cat turned to dart down another only to run into someone's chest. Arms instinctively wrapped themselves round her, snaring her. Briefly, she saw the companions of the man who had caught her. Sydney and another guy, but at that second she did not stop to think. Still in panic mode, her foot connected with a shin granting her release and she was off again. Behind her, someone yelled something she did not – could not – understand. She just kept on running.

Up ahead, she could see light so she pushed forward. Suddenly an agonised cry, followed quickly by a gunshot rang out. Cat just kept going. However, the shot attracted more men and she could not go through the doors, so she ducked down another corridor, which in turn led to more corridors, seeming like a maze.

When she thought she had confused them enough, she slowed and slipped into an alcove. Once again she let her hair obscure her face, this time so she could better blend with the shadows. Imagining a cloak of invisibility.

It worked. Some of the men jogged past, missing her completely. Cat watched them through the glossy curtain of dark hair and listened as their footsteps faded. Moving from her hiding place, she crept back the way she had come, ducking into doorways, listening carefully at corners. Finally, she reached the corridor where the doors that led somewhere lighter were.

They were meant to be locked. The place had an escaped fugitive and they were not in complete lock down. Cat rolled her eyes. _Stupid_.

Another corridor extended after the doors, only this one had no other doors, so she walked down it into a larger corridor. At first, she thought this newest corridor was just well lit, but then realized it was much, much more than that. The light was too bright and hurt her eyes. For several seconds, she blinked to adjust, then she realized the light was _warm_ and it came from the windows.

Cat wanted to run and stand with her arms out-stretched, enjoying her first glimpse of daylight in many long months. Instead, she forced herself to walk calmly down this corridor, busy with people going about their daily business. Men and women in suits, all rushing this way and that, knowing exactly what they were meant to be doing. A sixteen-year-old girl looked out of place, but if she pretended she knew what she was meant to be doing…

"Hey you!" Too late.

Cat darted off again among the startled faces, knocking someone with an armload of papers over. At least they couldn't shoot at her out here.

Then she must have run out of luck, because she hit an end. The only way was through a door. What was behind door number one was not something she was going to like, she knew, but she had no choice. Pushed the doors open, she found herself in an office, interrupting a meeting of the scariest people she had ever met.

Two of them she felt she should already know, they were familiar and one was so twisted it was a wonder he could even walk straight. The other two were utterly cold and dead inside. Cat did not question how she knew this, she had been making similar judgements all her life and if asked she would have said everyone made them. At any rate, the only thing she concentrated on in that room was the window. If she made a dash for it, maybe she could jump out. With any luck the fall would either not be very far or it would be too far…

One of the men in the room anticipated her moves, stepped up behind her and slammed his gun to her temple. Cat crumpled to the ground, unconscious. The last thing she was aware of was someone entering the room.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Please review._


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes – **The ever-wonderful Jak has sent me the second movie, so I will finally get to see it. Sends Jak a big hug. Thanks, honey, that means a lot to me. :-)

* * *

**Chapter Six**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
_"Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely."  
_-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Sam entered the room in time to see Willie whack Catherine across the temple with a gun. The girl gave a whimper and crumpled to the floor. Noticing the three other occupants of the room Sam realized what danger he and the girl were in.

"Sorry Mr. Parker, Mr. Lyle," he said, hoping to survive the next few moments with his life – and most of his limbs – intact.

Willie was beneath Sam's notice, and Mr. Cox… Well, Mr. Cox was a little too much for Sam, who really considered himself a little under the complexities of some of the darker, more twisted Centre plots.

"I apologise for the intrusion, but she had insufficient guards. It is something that shall be remedied." He prayed that killing the messenger was something that did not apply in this case.

To his intense relief, he was dismissed with a flick of Mr. Parker's wrist. However, when he scooped up the girl he was surprised to find how light she was. A good 5'8', you would expect her to weigh more. As he carried her out of the office, and took a closer look at her, he noticed just how thin the girl was. Thin and very pale – although some of the paleness could be attributed to the shallow head wound she had received from Willie's gun – she did not look exactly healthy.

Admittedly Sam's experience with children – or teenagers – was limited. The only child he had been around for an extended period of time was the daughter of that IT, Broots, that Miss Parker was so fond of, Debbie. And the time he had spent with Debbie had been fairly brief and not all that recent, but the younger girl had looked so much healthier than the one he now carried.

Before he could reach the renewal wing, he was intercepted by Sydney and Angelo. Angelo, who had thrown himself in front of the sweeper who had tried to shoot at the girl earlier, giving her enough time to, if not escape, then get them all in trouble. If that were discovered, Sam knew he could end up taking the fall. Since Miss Parker had disappeared to whatever secret project she had been required for, Sam had been relegated to _babysitting_ Angelo. Except when he was needed to chase down the escaped Jarod and his family.

Much to everyone's surprise, Angelo reached out a touched the uninjured side of Catherine's face and said, "Little baby girl. Mama misses you."

-x-x-x-

Long after a subdued and slightly dazed Catherine had been returned to her room, Sydney contemplated Angelo's words. _"Little baby girl. Mama misses you."_ When pressed, all the empath could come up with was, "Mama misses baby girl."

Sydney felt that this was good confirmation that Catherine had been born in the Centre. Angelo would have been unlikely to repeat the words otherwise. The empath saw some significance to Catherine as a baby. For about the millionth time since Jarod had escaped, Sydney felt frustrated at Angelo's cryptic knowledge and wished he could get in the damaged man's mind for answers.

Angelo had steadfastly refused to leave Catherine's side and Sydney wondered why he had not thought to introduce them sooner.

Catherine dazed, groggy and still upset had not objected. Not even at Angelo's statement, "Angelo watch baby girl." The young girl seemed to find the undemanding presence a comfort, sensing that Angelo was more an ally than anything else.

Sydney would have to tell Jarod to speed up the "rescue" plans, because if this incident was any indication, Catherine was going to become a whole lot more trouble from now on. She wanted out. Only her fear and lack of knowledge had kept her dormant until now. But Cat now knew of one possible escape route and with every attempt she made, things would become clearer in her mind. Unfortunately, with every attempt made, the security on her would increase, making both escape and rescue all the more difficult.

-x-x-x-

Cat's head hurt. There was a constant throbbing in her left temple where she had been hit. The painkillers had worn off, but she had no intention of asking for more – they made her dizzy, and clouded her thinking. Although, she had to admit the pain did not help her thought process much either.

The strange man that had been with Sydney when she woke up in the infirmary – or whatever that place was – still sat by her bed. He appeared to be suffering from some kind of brain damage, but even in her less-than-normal state she could sense he was a friend. Since laying eyes on her, he had apparently refused to leave her. That was okay; she didn't particularly want him to go either.

"Baby girl." He did keep calling her that though.

Cat shook her head, and then wished she hadn't, it felt like her brain was bouncing off the edges of her skull. "No, I'm no baby." She gave him a small smile. "My name's Catherine. What about you? What's your name?"

For seconds on end, he just looked at her, and she wondered what secrets his pale blue eyes held. Deciding that either he couldn't or wouldn't tell her his name, she leaned back against the head of her bed.

Maybe she could get some sleep – if the pain let her. Her eyes were just beginning to shut when he spoke, "Not Timmy – Angelo."

Odd way of saying it…but who was she to question him? "Well, Angelo, who isn't Timmy, it's nice to meet you." Cat did not sit up again, but she stuck her arm straight up in the air. When Angelo's hand enveloped hers, she shook it firmly.

Damn, but her head hurt! Angelo, whoever he was, probably would not mind her catching a few winks. So, it came as no surprise, after she had moved down, pulled the covers up and closed her eyes that he touched her cheek and said, "Baby girl." She did not bother to correct him.

Angelo began to croon something under his breath. The tune was familiar, but she couldn't name it. Cat drifted off to sleep still trying to identify the song.

-x-x-x-

After few days of rest, Catherine was declared capable of coping with sims. However, she refused. Sydney tried cajoling, threatening and also attempted to simply ask what was wrong. None of it worked. Cat had sunk into a pit of misery.

Cat did not want to do her sims, so she didn't. The thought of food turned her stomach, so even though hunger gnawed at her, she could not bring herself to eat. At night, she lay in her bed, too tired to sleep. Looking at herself one morning, she was surprised to see herself looking like a victim of war. Her hair was flat, the shadows under her eyes looked like bruises and there was something distant and dead in her expression. Months of poor eating, coupled with days of next to no nutrition and little sleep had taken its toll.

Sydney looked so worried that she almost tried to eat, but she just figured he was getting in trouble with his bosses because she was not being a good little girl doing her work. Although, for the last few days he had stopped trying to get her to work and concentrated on trying to get her to eat and sleep.

Angelo visited her daily. These were the few times that she was anything less than miserable. Her misery seemed to upset him, so she did try to be more cheerful when he was around. A huge effort that left her exhausted.

That about summed up what Cat was feeling: exhausted. A little over five months of her life had been spent in very plain surroundings. While her mental capabilities had been expanded on a daily basis, there was little else for stimulation. Prior to her capture, she had been living in a vibrant, loving world. Suddenly she had been enclosed away from it. Lost, confused and cut from all but a few people, Cat was wilting. Given enough time, the natural human instinct for survival might kick in, but the damage would be done. Her attempt at freedom had done the one thing her captors had failed at: breached her defences.

Cat was all alone.

-x-x-x-

What Catherine did not know was that Sydney pleaded daily for some relief for her. Vastly different from the Centre's other subjects, he argued, she was much older when she came to the Centre, much less adaptable. His efforts had been rewarded by the fact that Mr. Parker allowed Angelo to visit her.

Sydney suspected that the director had been so startled by the appearance of the girl in his office that he had relented. What Sydney did not know was that Mr. Parker had been more shocked by the girl's eyes than anything.

Until that moment, Mr. Parker had never laid eyes on his granddaughter. Catherine's sudden arrival in his office had brought back memories of her grandmother and mother. A ruthless man, he was capable of doing whatever was necessary to achieve the end he desired, but he did have a weakness for women with that colour eyes. So he had allowed the girl to have the small comfort of Angelo, who had occasionally watched over her as a baby.

However, despite this weakness, the Centre needed the resources Catherine provided. So Mr. Parker had to do something that would break Catherine completely, while leaving her abilities fully intact. There were several people with the necessary qualifications. But the best was Lyle.

So now Catherine's uncle – although he was unaware of this fact – walked towards Catherine's room, to break her. Days earlier, he had seen her in his father's office and had been intrigued by her. Something about her, that he could not quite put his finger on, spoke to him. Not that it mattered. His assignment was fairly easy.

Lyle paused at the door to Catherine's room and nodded at the two sweepers outside it. Two more sweepers stood at either end of the corridor. All doors nearby were securely locked. Escape would no longer be easy, especially after tonight.

Lyle had two sweepers with him. Big, burly men who had maybe a brain cell between them. Lack of intelligence was of little import, however, as they were good at their job. And they were going to get all the fun tonight. Considering the resources at the Centre, the methods they used were a little crude. Still, Lyle got to watch. And direct.

When the three entered, the girl jumped to her feet. Sydney had gone off to his little hole for the night and she was supposed to be asleep, off-guard. However, the young pretender had been sitting, awake, at the small table in her room, wary.

Well, it would not affect the end result, and could possibly make the process more fun. "Hello, Catherine. It's time for a lesson." With that he signalled the two guards, who came forward. Catherine's eyes widened, somehow sensing what was about to happen.

At first, she ducked out of their grasps, but unlike previously, she had no-where to run. The events over the last few days had left her weak from hunger and exhaustion, so it was easy for the guards to catch her with their beefy hands. Then they began to beat her.

Lyle smiled slightly when, even in her fear, Catherine tried to stay on her feet, making a few shaky, but practised defence moves. Impressive though her attempts were, it could not last, and she went down. Lyle's smile widened slightly more when he heard a bone or two snap. Such a small weak thing never had a chance.

On the floor, the young girl whimpered softly. Strangely it struck Lyle, making him catch his breath, before he shook it off.

"Mama?" she whispered. When no answer came, she tried again, screaming this time before passing out for the second time in ten days, "MAMA!"

-x-x-x-

Not all that far away, Parker jolted awake to a feeling of fear and pain. Within her, her son shifted uneasily. Unable to do anything about the intruding emotions and deeply unsettled by them, Parker attempted to go back to sleep. Many long hours of the night passed before she could.

-x-x-x-

Further away, but still close, Ethan woke to the voices screaming. After finally gaining control of them, he was shocked at such lack of it. Loudest of all was his mother's indistinguishable cry. Until now she had always been so calm. Confused and afraid, Ethan brought everyone in the house to his room as he added his own wail to the lament.

-x-x-x-

Many miles away, another person woke to the sudden outburst of fear and pain.

Timothy was out of his bed and across the room reaching for a door he knew was locked. "I have to help her. I have to…what?"

The boy, a pretender stopped, startled. _She_ was just part of his imagination. _She_ did not exist. How could he want to leave his room to find some he knew could not possibly be real? Hearing voices was a symptom to mental disorders, there was some research he should do on that. Maybe he had one of them.

But…but if _She_ did not exist, then why did he feel _Her_ terror? Why had he been so hungry these last few days? The food had been utterly tasteless and almost nauseating, but he had eaten until he was stuffed. And beyond his bloated gluttony, Timothy still felt hunger. _Her_ hunger. Of course, he could be delusional or hallucinating. They were symptoms of mental disorders as well.

Maybe Timothy could ask one of his tutors for a book on mental health. Dr. Provagen would probably let him have one. He was the nicest of Timothy's tutors and he had been there the longest. Dr. Provagen also was the only one who called him Timothy. None of the others called him by name: when they were talking about him – not to him – they referred to him as 'the subject'. Sometimes, Timothy did not talk to them when they asked him questions. These were the times he felt most like a person and not like he really was 'the subject'.

Only one other person had ever called him Timothy. An older man with silver hair, who had not spoken directly to Timothy, but he had spoken about him. It didn't count though, because the man was frozen inside and out. Cold and hard. Only when he looked at Timothy – very briefly – had there been any softening. Then he looked away and the coldness came back.

Now, Timothy paced the confines of his cage. Sleep would not come for him again that night, he knew. This was not Dr. Provagen's week. The tutor might not be here until next week. Timothy scowled – he might be going crazy and Dr. Provagen was off with not a care in the world!

Early the next morning, one of Timothy's tutors found him still pacing his room, muttering about voices and schizophrenia.

-x-x-x-

Sydney was the one who found Catherine, curled in a ball on her floor. Her body badly beaten, covered in cuts and bruises. At first he was afraid she was dead, but her pulse was there. Faint but steady. Her breathing hitched, rough and shallow.

Calling for someone to get a medic, he gently brushed back a strand of hair noticing that the yellow and faded bruise on her temple had been made almost invisible by a new, vivid set.

Catherine did not stir, even with the noisy doctors fussing over her, lifting her on to a stretcher, hurrying her away. Sydney followed them to the Renewal Wing, waited until she was settled in before placing a call. The call would let Jarod and the others know that there was trouble, and that one of them would have to meet him. The signal had been put in place for Catherine's and Parker's 'rescue', in case of changes that would need to be noted.

He told Broots he was leaving for the day, and to tell anyone who asked, that he had gone home sick.

Broots, gave a vague acknowledgement, and bent back to his work – apparently attempting to find Jarod's current location. In all actuality, he was trying to find ways to breach Centre security form the inside, making it look like the breach came from the outside. A good man that.

Just outside of Blue Cove, after checking to make sure he had not been followed, Sydney met Jarod. Once they had greeted each other Jarod asked Sydney worriedly, "What's wrong Sydney? What happened to make you risk everything today?"

"Catherine's been moved to the Renewal Wing."

"What?" Jarod's tone now hinted at suspicion. Sydney knew it was not aimed at himself, but rather the terrible things that could happen to a person in the Renewal Wing.

Sydney dreaded passing on this news – it would anger Jarod. The older man sighed – not something he usually indulged in. "I found her badly beaten in her room this morning." Sydney could not find it in himself to call it a cell. Today, he just felt so tired. Tired of it all. Tired of knowing about not acting to stop it. Tired of playing both sides – working for and in the Centre, at the same as passing the information on to Jarod.

Sydney had spent decades doing the devil's work, while been blind to doing it. Now, he was trying to make up for it and finding out just how exhausting it could be.

"Why?"

"I'm not sure. I would think it has something to do with her escape attempt. They must have felt she needed to be broken."

"Broken? Broken?! Sydney!" Jarod's tone was sharp, pained. Sydney recognised in it the abuse Jarod had suffered at the hands of the Centre and himself for more than three decades. As Sydney watched, Jarod visibly drew himself away from the pain.

Shaking his head, Jarod sighed. "It doesn't matter. We'll just have to get her from there. It's too late to change things. What's the security like?"

Sydney told him, using the details he had conscientiously memorized. Sweeper numbers. Room location and layout. Nearby exits. As much as he possibly could. Jarod was right: it had to be tonight. Too much longer and Catherine's mind would be as damaged as her body.

He only hoped they could pull it all off.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Please_ _review_.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Kazzy's Notes** – It's funny, but the further I go through this the less changes I have to make. I guess that's what happens when you spend so long writing something. You get better at it. ;-) Unfortunately, I'm not perfect yet.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
_"Power corrupts, but absolute power corrupts absolutely."  
_-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The slender girl lay pale and unmoving, her face framed by the crisp linen pillowcase. Around her in the dim room, machines bleeped – steady and even. A tube ran from her arm to an intravenous feed. Her breathing was rough, a product of several broken ribs. Dark bruises coloured her cheeks, looking like dirty smudges in the light cast by the monitors that measure heartbeat and blood pressure. Heavily sedated, the badly beaten form of Catherine Zealth was unlikely to regain consciousness for a while yet.

Elsewhere, Miss Parker herself lay with her head on a white pillow case, lightly dozing, one hand curled around her belly as her son, Kyle Thomas, moved about. The fear from the previous night had faded, leaving a dull sense of pain and anxiety, and oddly, a sense of anticipation. Something was about to happen.

In two further places within the Centre, two air vents simultaneously slid silently from their settings.

A guard who watched over a treasure worth more than his life glanced at his watch, the numbers on the glowing screen slid from 2:59am to 3:00am. The witching hour had begun.

-x-x-x-

The rescues had to be performed simultaneously. One rescue would invite retaliation on the remaining prisoner, to say nothing of the increased security that would have to be dealt with. This way, if they were discovered, any counter attack would have to deal with both breaches. Additionally, if an alarm were to go up within the Centre, Dean and Broots were in place so they could set up further alerts – making sure that the security staff would be kept spread as thinly as possible.

Cameras situated along the planned routes were now set to a loop, carefully recorded over the last few hours. All alarm systems had been deactivated and would restart without a blip when the intruders, and their prizes, had left the building. All that remained were locked doors and human security – sweepers and such – but with a little planning these could be overcome.

From his vantage point a few corridors over from Catherine's room, Jarod took a look around him and shivered slightly. Whenever he entered the walls of the Centre on his own terms Jarod felt…strange. He had no other word for the tingling that ran across his skin. The feeling, he imagined, was similar to that of being in a haunted house, surrounded by ghosts. A place that had been his only home for so long now had become reminiscent of hell, filled with the screaming souls of the damned. Too many people he had lost to the Centre, he would not lose Miss Parker and the baby too.

Emily, standing beside him placed a gentle hand on his arm, her dark brown eyes full of understanding and warmth. Jarod's sister may have never lived inside these walls, but they held nearly as many shadows for her as they did for him. Highly aware of the moods of people around her, Emily displayed a latent, untrained pretender ability, one of the more empathic ones. Emily was such a caring person for someone who could also be so strong, so tough. In a way, her character was almost at odds with Miss Parker's icy demeanour, a light and a dark.

Sydney moved silently beside them. Jarod had been unaware that his old mentor was capable of moving so stealthily, but that was what working at the Centre did to you – turned you into a sneak.

Together they would be retrieving Catherine from the Renewal Wing. Sydney, in case she woke up, needed to be there. Jarod on the other hand needed to be there to help tell the best way to move the girl with her injuries – they couldn't just wheel her on a stretcher out the front door, like they had with Emily from the hospital a few months ago. Emily herself was a crack shot (enough to give Miss Parker a run for her money), so she was along as extra muscle.

The second team consisted of Major Charles and Ethan. The two men should be able to handle Miss Parker's rescue on their own. Once they had the former operative, she would be a great help. From all the information they had been able to collect, Miss Parker would be more than ready to get up and leave on her own terms.

At the same time, if Jarod were completely honest with himself, he was simply avoiding Miss Parker. A confrontation between them was inevitable. However, she was bound to be furious and determined to take it out on her easiest and usual target – Jarod. As, for once, he really had nothing to say in defence (other than it wasn't his fault), he wanted to put that conversation off as long as he could manage.

Sydney and Emily paused. They were nearly at the room in which Catherine was being kept. The room was the only one occupied on that corridor, the others were locked and empty. Catherine's door would also be locked, but Jarod had worked long and hard this afternoon to get his hands on the code. A sweeper stood at either end of the corridor, two at the door to the girl's room and one actually locked inside with her.

Ultimately, the technical parts of this little quest were easy to overcome. Everything was run by computers. Given the right commands, computers would do whatever you asked. People were different. You could predict their actions to a certain degree, after that they were free agents. So they had to be taken out quickly and quietly. Jarod could not bring himself to kill five men in cold blood, even if those said men were Centre sweepers, so they were using gas to knock the men out. He, Emily and Sydney had masks and carried another for Catherine.

The first four guards went down silently, and would stay that way until not long before the next shift. So far, this operation had gone almost alarmingly smoothly. In Jarod's experience, nothing ever went smoothly with the Centre, particularly when it came to their pretenders.

Beside him, Emily shifted uneasily, apparently also expecting something more. Although the gas would be effective for the next few minutes, surprising anyone who rounded the corner, she still had her weapon drawn, waiting.

Jarod tapped the code into the keypad beside the door and let his finger hover over the 'enter' key glancing over at the other two. "Ready?" he asked. Emily jerked her head once, keeping her shrouded eyes on the sleeping guards. Sydney nodded as well, his face appearing strange and alien in the gas mask. The button was pressed and the door swung open to reveal one startled sweeper and an unconscious girl.

The sweeper had had enough confidence in his fellows and the electronic security systems of the Centre that he had become lazy, not really paying attention, almost dozing. Had he known the camera in the room had been looped, so as not to show his actions, he might have dropped off. But then had he known about the loop he would have had to report it to someone.

As it was he had little time to react. Together, Jarod and Emily took him out quickly and with some disgust. Had the Centre fallen so far? Sweepers had never been overly bright, but that one was just plain stupid.

Finally, they turned their attention to Catherine. Emily gasped in horror and only then did Jarod truly look closely at Catherine and begin to realize why security had probably been a little lax – she could not have gotten out of her bed and walked if it meant saving her life. Of course, he hadn't expected her to walk anywhere, but this was going to make things that much more difficult. Moving her wasn't wise; particularly considering the route they planned on taking would be a rough one through the Centre's air ducts. Any bad bumps that she might sustain could pop some stitches or jar her badly enough to damage bones that might have begun to knit.

Reaching for her chart, his eyes scanning it. Three broken ribs, a fractured wrist, three broken fingers, two broken toes, a dislocated shoulder, bruised kidneys, and numerous bruises and lacerations. On top of that she was suffering from malnutrition and exhaustion. His horrified eyes met Sydney's and saw the answer mirrored back at him. Catherine Zealth was lucky to even be alive.

-x-x-x-

Parker lay dozing on her bed. A dull sense of excitement kept her from sinking into a deep sleep. Beyond that she felt the blank wall of the female presence and the anxiety of the male presence, floating almost expectantly around her.

The soft beep of the door unlocking startled Parker into complete wakefulness. _Lyle!_ Her jarred mind yelled, and she sat up, ready to leap into confrontation. However, the face that appeared round the door was not her twin, but two strange looking bug-men. Gasmasks. The masks came off to reveal her half-brother, who was followed by his father, Major Charles. So unexpected were these guests that Parker nearly flew into combat anyway.

Managing to still her muscles, her scattered wits still took several minutes to gather themselves. Parker stared at her two rescuers, mouth open in a completely un-Parker-ish manner.

"Hey, Parker – you ready to skip town?" Ethan asked with a slight smile. His soft voice finally allowed her to speak.

"Ethan?" she asked, wondering if she was dreaming.

"In the flesh, sister." He replied with a smile. Standing, she hugged him tightly, it was a little awkward around her stomach, but not too bad.

Major Charles, who had stood back to allow brother and sister a small reunion, now stepped up again, his eyes darting backwards and forwards down the corridor. In his hands, he held his gun loosely pointed at the ground, but ready should he need it.

"Come on!" the Major whispered softly. "We need to get out of here – there's no telling who may decide to wander along these corridors." Something that seemed to be a mixture of the thick cloth and cool metal was shoved into Parker's hands; she looked down to see a gas mask.

Ethan briefly caught his sister's eye. "Lyle," he said with very little connotation.

Right then Parker caught his meaning. Earlier she had suspected Lyle at her door for a good reason, her twin was heading this way, and fast. He may not have been to see her in months and it may have been what Parker assumed to be the early hours of the morning, but Lyle would be there soon. They needed to leave now.

If Ethan felt fear or apprehension or even curiosity at meeting his brother, he did not show it. In fact, if he felt anything at all about Lyle he kept it locked closely to himself.

Outside her room, the ever-present guards lay still, as did the new ones at the end of the corridor – the ones that had appeared suddenly about ten days ago, and she understood the reason for the gas mask and was grateful for it. Passing out from a sleeping gas was one thing, passing out while pregnant and trying to escape from the Centre was a whole other story.

Major Charles gently took her arm and guided down the corridor. She had no idea how they were going to get out of the Centre, but she did know this section of the place – she'd had to walk it often enough to go and 'visit' one of the doctors who would poke and prod her regularly, all in the name of her health.

Suddenly, on her other side, Ethan jerked and then yanked her out of Major Charles' grasp in such a way that she knew she would have bruises the next day. Major Charles turned to look, but Ethan quickly indicated that he should follow them into this little side corridor.

The older man obeyed, and not a moment too soon as Lyle really did walk past them this time. Afraid of discovery Parker held her breath and moved deeper into the shadows, thankful that the lights in this particular part of the this sub-level didn't seem to be working. She needn't have worried. Lyle was so caught up in whatever he was doing he didn't notice the three hiding there.

Caught up in thinking about visiting _her_, Parker realized. Now only moments were left before an alarm went up. The three fugitives exchanged glances from behind their distorting masks and took off, Parker half a step behind the others, hoping they knew where they were going.

-x-x-x-

Lyle had no idea what had prompted him to go and see his sister now, at 3:12am. He had nothing in particular to say to her and certainly nothing that could not have waited until morning. Still, he felt a desperate need to see Parker.

The security cameras had revealed that she was resting peacefully, lying on her back in her bed, eyes closed, breathing even, one hand curled around her belly. Yet, he wanted to lay eyes on her for real. One, visiting her at this time of night would rattle her; two, being woken from a deep sleep would put her even further off balance; and three, something truly was pushing him.

Maybe Parker and that half-of-a-brain brother of theirs, Ethan, weren't the only ones who could hear voices. _Great_, he thought, _now I'm in store for the family curse_.

As he neared the corridors that his sister resided in, he moved faster and faster completely focused on his goal. So focused that he missed the three presences in the corridor he passed.

At the corridor leading to Parker's room, he almost tripped over the sweeper sprawled on the floor. Kicking the man sharply in the ribs a couple times, the implications of this taking a moment to occur to him. When they did, he kicked the man a couple more times before hurrying towards the now open door of his sisters room and two more unconscious sweepers.

Unfortunately for Lyle, he hadn't stopped to consider the fact that the men didn't have any obvious bumps or bruises to indicate how they were knocked out. As the gas began to take effect, he swayed on his feet, grabbed the wall and sunk to his knees. Swearing, Lyle fought to keep his eyes open. He succeeded, but only because the gas had began to dissipate somewhat. Climbing to his feet he staggered to the panel beside Parker's door and set off the alarm button there.

Nothing happened. The sirens that were meant to wail remained silent and he realized just how well this had been planned. So well that Lyle smelled a rat. A lab-rat to be precise. This little operation had Jarod's fingerprints all over it. Although, remembering Zoey's rescue from Rosing's Farm, he was willing to bet the gas was Major Charles addition.

Lyle was not without resources. Pulling out his cell phone, he alerted security, telling them to send two sweeper teams to him straight away, and another one to Catherine's room in the Renewal Wing. Killing two birds with one stone was another of Jarod's tricks. However, Lyle had no intention of letting his prizes disappear right out from under his nose. He would see to it that none of them made it out of the Centre.

Leaving the corridor with its still thick air, Lyle ran along the most likely route of Parker and her rescuers.

-x-x-x-

In his place in front of the security screens and computers, Dean suddenly sat up straight. "Oh, hell! Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

Broots nodded and quickly began to type in the commands that would start the emergency procedure that had been agreed on. Following suit, Dean began his part, hoping against hope that this would work long enough for everyone to get clear and safe.

Picking up the walky-talky, he spoke to the driver of the get-away van, "Zoey, be ready – we've got trouble, so they'll be coming your way fast."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Please review. _:-)


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes:** And here ends the completed chapters in my archives. I'll have to get on to writing more, won't I? ;-)

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
_"Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely."  
_-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Nobody had spoken in just over an hour. And that had only been Major Charles reminding Zoey that a turn was up ahead. Prior to that it had been when Deaning Catherine as a shield.

Jarod? Afraid of her? Never. The man usually positively delighted in taunting her.

The reticence of the others came as no surprise, though, they had no reason to want or like her. She was, Parker realised, completely dependant on the goodwill of the family of the man she had been actively hunting down for the last four years. She doubted they'd be helping her now if it wasn't for the baby. Would they have anything to do with her after the baby wraid of her? Never. The man usually positively delighted in taunting her.

The reticence of the others came as no surprise, though, they had no reason to want or like her. She was, Parker realised, completely dependant on the goodwill of the family of the man she had been actively hunting down for the last four years. She doubted they'd be helping her now if it wasn't for the baby. Would they have anything to do with her after the baby was born?

A new thought hit her, shocking in its sharpness: would they take her child away from her once he was born? _No,_ something else intruded, _no one is going to take my son from me. No one._ A kind of clarity came with the freedom she had been given. This was her son and not even Jarod could take him away from her.

Something niggled at the back of her mind, a brief sense of loss, but it was gone quickly enough that she didn't bother analysing it.

A third presence reached out to her, this time from beyond. The Male, his fear, concern and anxiety for the Female pushed against Parker with a strength she hadn't felt from him before. Parker tried to console him, but he refused to be comforted. Inside her, Kyle stirred uneasily. The Female remained silent.

Not even her iron will could prevent Parker from moaning softly, and burying her head in her hands. Everything seemed so bad, so twisted. She could no longer recognise her life. Around her the air shifted, but she miserably ignored it until she felt a soft hand brush against her own.

Looking up she saw Emily, concern written on the other woman's face. Beside Parker, Ethan took her hand and grasped it in both of his own, offering support silently. She was warmed by the gesture and took strength from her brother's presence. It gave her hope that she might not be completely hated; that these people might care just a little about what happened to her, Parker, and not just Kyle's mother.

After a short period of the continued silence, Emily moved forward and leaned into the front, murmuring something to Major Charles and Zoey. A soft conversation that Parker was too tired to attempt to listen to, but which Ethan took great interest in, his face clearing. From the slight smile he gave her and the gentle squeeze of her hands, she gathered he liked what he heard.

A moment or two later Emily sat back in her seat, next to the sleeping Dean, across from Parker, and smiled her face clearing a little.

Less than five minutes after that, the van slowed as it pulled off the main highway, and on to a badly sealed tarmac. As often happens to people on a long trip, the different pace seemed to stir them up a little – everyone shifted slightly in anticipation of the change. Dean slowly woke, stretching cat-like in his small space.

"What's going on?" he asked into the quiet. He yawned, and stretched again.

"We're stopping briefly so everyone can stretch their legs and get a bite to eat," Emily told him.

"Excellent," he said. "I'm starved." This brought a few chuckles from around the van, and they seemed odd in the strained air that had surrounded the ride so far.

The van had come to a complete stop, so Dean jumped up and leapt to the back to open the door. Outside, Parker could see a service station; and Major Charles began to fill the van's gas-tank, while everyone stood outside blinking and staring around them at the world. Parker realised that they all looked as if they'd woken, as if the van had been part of some dream, and now they were briefly part of something else.

Jarod slipped out of the van behind her and when he came into Parker's line of vision he shot her an unreadable look. He put a hand on Dean's shoulder and Parker, with a jolt of déjà vu, became aware of the absolute similarity between them.

Most of the van's occupants headed towards the brightly lit building, and a jingle sounded as they entered. Major Charles stopped the gas-pump, hooked it back up and followed the others.

Parker hung back. It had been so long since she'd been outside, truly outside, she just wanted to feel the wind; a soft caress against her skin. She wanted to enjoy the vastness of the night, the way there seemed to be endless room spread out before her.

"Do you want anything to eat?" Jumping slightly at Ethan's voice, she realised he hadn't gone inside with the others.

Parker shook her head. "Maybe soon. I just want to…to be outside for a while. It's been so long…"

He nodded softly, understanding. While she re-acquainted herself with the outside world, Ethan stayed beside her, almost protectively. If this is how she felt after five months how had Jarod felt after more than three decades?

There was a faint line of light on the horizon, so very far away. Must be near dawn soon. She shivered slightly. They'd been driving for hours, and the day would start soon. The day that was beyond this night. A new day that would bring many new things she was going to have to adjust to. Shivering slightly, Parker backed up slightly. Suddenly the wide-open space that had seemed so welcome just a few moments ago was too wide, too open. She felt exposed and unsure. Unsafe.

Wanting four walls around her, Parker took another step back. Bumping the back of her legs against the van, she sat down on the ledge and pushed herself inside the door. Ethan's worried eyes followed her.

"Parker?" he asked softly. "Are you all right?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine." The van was only marginally safer.

"Why don't you come inside? Have something to eat, use the restrooms. It's OK." Gently he lifted himself to sit beside her on the floor of the van.

Parker glanced at the make-shift stretcher beside them, "What about Catherine? Doesn't someone need to watch her?" Her words, for some reason brought forth her awareness of the Male, and his fear pushed against her again.

Ethan glanced over as well. "I think she'll be all right. Jarod would not have left her alone, otherwise." That was true, which left Parker to wonder why, if it was safe to leave the girl, he had not done so once during their journey.

Her brother stood and offered her his hand. Parker accepted and he tucked her arm into his. It had been a while since she had been touched this closely and this warmly by someone who cared, someone who didn't view her as an interesting object of science. Needing that care, that warmth, she leaned against him.

Together they walked to the service station.

-x-x-x-

Anger was not something Lyle was unfamiliar with. Although he had no distinct memories of the period, it was something that had been fostered in him as a teenager under Raines' tender care – something he'd learned he could depend on feeling, particularly when it come to his sister and Jarod. The two of them together were a dangerous pair and they made Lyle dangerous.

Add Jarod's family into the mix, and it was sure to send Lyle over boiling point, and on to a rampage. He was storming about the Centre yelling at any random sweepers he came across. Anyone who could had gone home or found work that they'd forgotten, but took them to the bows of the Centre where Lyle wouldn't bother looking for them. Miss Parker's temper was well known and feared. Mr. Lyle was seen in the same respect. No one ever wanted to cross either of Mr. Parker's children.

Finally, something occurred to the director's enraged son. He stomped around to Sydney's office. The door was locked, as the good doctor kept it when he was not present. Lyle turned and headed for the tech's office, but Mr. Broots was not in residence either. Spinning around he glanced up and down the corridor. A hapless sweeper tried to duck out of sight, but Lyle was too fast for him.

"You!" he snarled.

The sweeper froze, and glanced at Lyle worriedly. "Yes, Mr. Lyle?"

"You worked for my sister, didn't you?" Sam the Sweeper nodded cautiously. He'd been warned by the others what kind of mood Lyle was in, but had thought that he would be able to avoid the man if he came here. He'd been wrong. Maybe his old boss' office would have been better to hide out in.

"Well, have you seen Sydney or that skulking lab tech?"

"No, sir – they're not due in for another hour." Lyle's eyes narrowed and Sam all but withered. Still, years of working under Miss Parker's often forceful glare had taught him how to stand strong.

"As soon as Sydney gets in, impress on him that I need to see him immediately. If he does not do so, I'll hold you personally responsible. It'll be more than your job you'll be missing." A chill ran through Sam, and he watched quietly as Lyle stormed down the corridor, practically mowing down a couple of clerks as he did so.

Lyle, for his part, was still absolutely furious. They'd escaped. All of them. He had not single one of his pets left. Heads were going to roll, and he had to figure out how to make sure that his was not one of them. Of course, the incompetence of the sweeper teams would be blamed, and Lyle could complain about the quality of the teams, saying that if the Centre had thought to hire better individuals this wouldn't have happened. That would only take him so far, though.

Sydney's continued absence could be alighted on. The man should have been here as soon as the alarms started ringing. How did he miss an escape like this? Negligence? Or something even more sinister? Lyle needed whatever help he could here and finger pointing Sydney would be of great help.

Lyle knew he could be facing a T-Board hearing, and the thought filled him with a cold dread. Yes, Sydney would be a good target. Let the man explain _his_ whereabouts.

-x-x-x-

When Sydney reached his office an hour later, Lyle was waiting for him. He hid a sigh of exasperation. _Here it comes._ Lyle was going to try and lay the whole blame on Sydney's shoulders. Unfortunately for Lyle, Sydney (and Broots, for that matter) had an airtight alibi that Jarod had carefully constructed.

Sydney's apartment had flooded and he'd had to spend the night at a motel. Broots had gone to dinner at a friend of his daughter's house, and had achieved an unusual rapport with the parents of the girl, so had stayed out far later than he might have normally done so. In both cases, the people involved with this alibi had been carefully convinced, or neatly added to make them look flawless. It was a design deviously appropriate for someone who had grown up at the Centre.

"Where were you last night? There was an escape." Lyle's voice was cold and hard. But then, so were his eyes.

"Who? What?" You didn't survive as long as Sydney had at the Centre without learning to act superbly.

"That pretender brat of yours, and my sister."

"That's impossible. They did not even know about one another, and I don't think either of them were in any condition to get up and leave."

"They had help," Lyle ground out. "Jarod."

"Are you sure? Do you have proof?" There was no need for proof, they both knew that Jarod would have done this, but Sydney kept up the pretence.

"I don't need proof," snarled Lyle, "but you will to prove you had nothing to do with this." Not bothering to wait for a reply, Lyle turned and left. Sydney watched him go then entered his office.

No sooner had he sat down at his desk then Broots hurried in, all in a panic. Sydney hoped the man wouldn't lose his composure and spill something to ruin their secret. Broots was a good man though, reliable. Maybe he was easily frightened, but he was also trustworthy. Besides, his tendency to act nervous if anyone even looked sideways at him meant that his tension could be passed off as a possible upset about the whole escape, and not necessarily that he was part of it.

"Have you heard?" he hissed at Sydney.

"I'm sure everyone's heard, by now, Broots." Sydney pulled his imperturbable mask over his face a direct contrast to the flurried Broots.

"What's going to happen?" he moaned.

"I'm sure we'll be put on the search, and there'll be all kinds of inquiries to find out who had something to do with this. They suspect Jarod, though."

"What about us? I have a daughter you know!" Broots was straying dangerously close to giving them away. Sydney gave a discreet gesture of reminder. At the Centre, someone was always listening.

"Did you have anything to do with this, Broots?" Sydney asked, trying to cement Broots' innocence.

The man was not stupid and he caught on. "No-oo. I have a daughter, I can't afford to get caught up in this sort of thing."

"Well, then, I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. They are only looking for guilty parties, aren't they?"

Broots' concern hadn't lessoned, but he nodded. After another quick exchange about where they both had been the night before – for the bugs planted in the office – Broots left to do his own work.

Sydney, despite his composure, was not nearly relaxed. There was too much riding on this and he hoped it didn't affect Broots and Debbie. Sydney's life would be a small price to pay for Jarod and Parker's continued freedom; but if they were captured, all sacrifices would all be for nothing.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Please review._


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes: **Well, it's a new chapter. ;-)

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-   
_"Power corrupts, but absolute power corrupts absolutely."   
_-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Catherine woke as she was lifted out of the van and into the safe house. Fortunately whoever had acquired the building had chosen a farm house, with no other habited buildings in hearing distance, because the first thing the injured girl did was start screaming.

Parker, who had drifted off to sleep after their rest stop, was still groggily waking up, glad for the warm morning sun that shone on her. Waking up to miserable weather would have been far more difficult. However, she was jolted awake by the piercing cries that split the air.

"No! Stop! Mama! Make them stop! Mama! Where are you?!"

Hurriedly climbing out of the van, Parker saw that Jarod was beside the girl's stretcher, holding her hand and talking to softly and urgently. Everyone else was frozen, unsure what to do. Whatever Jarod was saying to Catherine was working however, as the girl stopped screaming, calming a little.

Eventually, the girl focused on Jarod's face and stared at him wide-eyed for a moment before her eyelids fluttered closed and she slipped back in unconsciousness. A general sigh of relief seemed to go up in the yard. Yet Parker wondered if the worst part was truly over. Catherine was a girl who had just spent several months of her life in a destructive and harrowing situation. This little interlude was probably the least of their worries when it came to Catherine's mental state.

"Parker?"

Turning, she came face to face with Ethan.

"Yes?" she said tiredly. That brief nap in the van was not nearly enough. Since the beginning of her pregnancy she had found she needed so much more sleep.

At least the morning sickness was over.

"Come inside and get something to eat, then you can sleep if you want. I think that's what everyone is doing at this stage. Tonight we're going to figure what happens next and who goes where in terms of hiding."

Parker felt a cool trace of dread. All of them were going to be split up in order to keep the Centre off their backs. Now she was going to be one of the hunted. As dangerous as her life had been when she worked at the Centre, it was going to become far more dangerous on the outside.

"Sure," was all she said. There was no need dramatise anything; her life had always run from bad to worse. This was simply one of the 'worse' times. Or perhaps 'worst' was a better word.

"I hope you don't mind sharing a room with Emily," Ethan said. "At the moment, everyone is sharing, except Catherine."

"It's fine." Parker could put up with Emily, if Emily could put up with her.

Ethan looked at her for a long minute before nodding, and leading her inside.

Never one to baulk at confrontation, Parker nevertheless did so now. It was just that going into the kitchen, where everyone else was right at this second, in her current state of mind and body seemed like too much. After a good sleep, she would be able to handle any confrontations. She would be able to put on her Parker-face and speak with Jarod.

Ethan led her upstairs to a small room with two beds. One of them had been roughly made at some point, and had a dented pillow. The other was neat and unused with a suitcase sitting on it. At her word, Ethan left her alone to get some sleep.

In the suitcase, she found some of her own clothes, taken from her house. Nestled carefully in between, to avoid damage was her gun, a few other necessities, one of Tommy's old shirts, and pictures of her mother and Tommy. Sending a brief prayer of thanks to whoever had packed her bag – Jarod? Ethan? Sydney? Emily? – Parker pulled on a pair of satin pyjamas.

Moving over to the window to pull the curtains, Parker spotted two figures outside by a red convertible. Jarod, and Zoey – the unfamiliar driver of the van. Who was she, and how had she become involved in this little escapade?

From what Parker could see, the conversation between them was intense. Finally Zoey reached a hand up to Jarod's cheek and then stood on tiptoe and kissed him. The two parted and Zoey got into her car to drive off. Jarod watched her for a moment before turning towards the house.

Feeling like a voyeur, Parker ducked out of sight of the window so Jarod wouldn't see her. Still, she wondered what was between the pretender and the redhead. Somehow, she couldn't quite contain the flash of jealousy that speared through her.

Parker was aware that over the years since Jarod had escaped, he had had a few relationships with women he had met. She could remember feeling uncomfortable with that idea, but it was fiercer now. Below her ribs, something fluttered lightly, a reminder of where the sudden upsurge of emotion might be coming from.

Making sure Jarod was inside, Parker jerked her curtains closed. Flicking the covers back, she flopped on her bed disgustedly. What was going on inside of her?

Just because the Centre had made her pregnant with Jarod's child, it did not give her any claim on him whatsoever. Even if it had, it wasn't like she wanted to. Her son maybe, but not her – there was simply too much pain and betrayal between them.

Even with her mixed up thoughts, sleep managed to creep up on Parker, and before she knew what was happening she slid into unconsciousness.

-x-x-x-

Jarod stood on the stoop of the house long after Zoey had disappeared, thinking about what she had told him.

As vibrant and as fun-loving as the redhead was, she was also very observant – to the point of being wise. Zoey didn't miss much and she never failed to see what she did clearly. This time she had seen it all and put him straight.

"Miss Parker's baby, it's yours, isn't it?" she'd asked, a hint of wryness to her voice.

"What makes you think that?" Jarod asked, stunned. To his knowledge, no one would have mentioned it to her, and he couldn't see why she would assume it was so.

"You haven't told me much about the Centre, but from what you have – and from looking at Dean and Ethan, it's not much of a stretch."

"Zoey…" something was happening here and Jarod wasn't sure what it was, but he knew he didn't like it.

"It's all right." She paused. "No, it's not. Something like that, using people in this way, is so very wrong, but I'm not angry, Jarod. Not at you. Or her." Her forehead creased. "Much, anyway."

"And once again the Centre destroys everything," Jarod muttered bitterly.

"Destroys everything? No. You have a chance, Jarod. A child. I think you should take that, and I think that I'll be in the way. The Centre may have taken so much from you, but now they've managed to give something back – take it." She looked at him earnestly.

"I don't want you to leave."

"I have to go, anyway," she laid a hand on his cheek gently. "If you need me, you know where to find me. I'll always be there to help you, Jarod. You gave me back my life, and I'm in your debt for that."

"You don't owe me anything," he said firmly.

"Sure I do, but I'm also a friend, so I'd help anyway.

"Goodbye, Jarod. I hope to see you again sometime." Standing on tiptoe she kissed him lightly.

"Goodbye," he whispered as she left.

Now she was gone, leaving him to deal with the Centre. _It's better this way_, he tried to tell himself. The further Zoey stayed away from him and the Centre, the safer she would be. Plus, there was her health to consider. She might be in remission now, but that could change. Life on the run didn't mean you would always be able to heal when you wanted to.

Jarod also had to think about Miss Parker and the baby as well, Zoey had been right about that. He was determined to be part of his child's life, no matter what Miss Parker or the Centre had to say on the matter. Throughout the years, the longer he had been on the outside, the longer he had searched for his family, the more he had wanted one of his own.

Now he was being given that opportunity, and he found that part of him was glad about it. The Centre may have abused life – largely his and Miss Parker's – to create the child, they may have done so to warp their baby into a well-made tool, but now it belonged to Jarod. And Jarod was not going to let his child go, no matter what.

He guessed that he should discuss this with Miss Parker. She was a strong-minded woman and she was bound to have a few opinions on the matter. Together they would have to come up with some form of compromise that suited them both.

-x-x-x-

Ethan was alone in the kitchen eating a sandwich when Jarod walked in.

"Where's everyone?" Jarod asked his brother.

"Umm," Ethan answered through a mouthful before swallowing. "Parker, Dean, and Dad are upstairs, asleep I guess. All of them were very tired. Emily is sitting with Catherine. Perhaps you should get some sleep, Brother. You look tired yourself."

"So, do you," Jarod answered. "I need to check on Catherine again."

"Pretty girl," his brother said suddenly. "Strange name."

"Sorry?" asked Jarod.

"She was important to the Centre, and we still don't know where she came from, but that's important too."

"Ethan?"

"The voices are very concerned about her, particularly my mother's. Strange about her name," Ethan mused again. The Centre's mysteries were only new to him, but already the young man had a firm grip on the twists that existed in all their lives.

"Yes, it is, but nothing we can find indicates that it is anything more than co-incidence." Jarod felt something shift in his mind, logic trying to grasp what was happening.

"Co-incidence isn't in the Centre dictionary." He tilted his head at Jarod. "At least that's what my mother says."

"You think this girl is more involved in this than we know? The voices think that?" Catherine Parker had trusted her voices implicitly, and Jarod did Ethan's without hesitation now.

"Yes."

"Isn't everybody?" Jarod muttered to himself, as he left to check on the young girl he'd rescued from the Centre, pondering the mysteries that surrounded her. At the door, he glanced back. "Let me know, if the voices tell you something else."

"Of course, Brother."

-x-x-x-

Parker woke feeling grouchy. Sunlight streamed through a crack in the curtains, and an alarm clock, that had appeared since she'd fallen asleep, proclaimed in was 10:30 am. She hadn't been asleep long, so she attempted to slip back into oblivion.

After several long minutes however, she discovered that her body wasn't terribly interested in going back to sleep, but would like a meal, thank you very much. Sitting up, she stretched, feeling her muscles protest slightly. Within her, Kyle moved, and she absently rubber her belly, feeling his response to her movements.

The house was silent when she emerged from her room, pulling a sweater doubling as a robe, over her head. Parker had to assume they were still sleeping. Across the hall the door was ajar and she could see a bathroom. Remembering that there had been a towel slung over the edge of her bed, she ducked back into her room to fetch it. A hot shower would be like heaven. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it – she just wanted to clean every last trace of the Centre off of her body.

Clean and dressed, Parker wandered down the stairs to where Ethan had indicated the kitchen was several hours earlier. Food. Well, there was plenty of it here, and good stuff too – nice solid food that probably even tasted real. By now, her insides were protesting loudly at their lack of nourishment.

Sadly she'd have to be careful – after what she'd been fed at the Centre she was willing to bet that anything particularly weighty or rich was off her diet for the next few days. A sandwich might be nice though.

In the fridge was some smoked chicken – she took just a little – lettuce and tomato. Whole grain bread, and a fine scraping of butter, and a little apple juice to wash it down. After the last five months of her life, it tasted like the finest feast, the most gourmet meal, she'd ever had.

"Miss Parker?"

She jumped. Jarod was standing behind her. "Don't do that!"

"How are you feeling this morning?" he asked, ignoring her temper.

"Fine," she grouched.

Moving a little to the left she was able to put the counter between them. But Jarod wasn't fooled particularly, and he stepped into the kitchen. Parker backed up further, and this time the pretender didn't follow her, being careful not to step into her space. Jarod had always been very good about that – never getting physically closer than she was willing to allow at that moment. Mentally and emotionally was another story however.

"You were asleep for a long time. I hope it was restful."

_I hope it was restful. _Sleep meant nothing if it wasn't restful, and Parker knew that for both of them, more often than not, it wasn't.

"A long time, Jarod, what are you talking about, I was barely asleep for more than three hours. But yes, if you must know, it was restful." Surprisingly so, in fact.

After a brief flash of surprise, one of his annoying smirks settled on his lips. "Miss Parker, you weren't asleep for three hours. You were asleep for twenty-seven – no one could wake you."

Twenty-seven hours? She'd been dead to the world for _twenty-seven_ hours? No wonder she hadn't wanted to go back to sleep once she'd woken. Parker wasn't sure she'd ever slept that long in her life – certainly not without being drugged or injured anyway.

Wrapping her mind around that one took several moments, and for long seconds she didn't realise how closely Jarod was watching her. When she did, she actually took another step back, bothered by the intensity and pain in his eyes. There was a hunger there that she didn't quite understand.

"Do you need anything?" Jarod asked. "Centre records show that you're healthy, and the baby…" he trailed off.

Miss Parker suddenly understood what the shadows in Jarod's eyes meant. Inside of her she carried the one thing that he wanted more than anything: his child. Jarod was completely in her power at the moment. He would never leave his son, but his son was in _her_ womb.

Between the two of then, there had always been a connection. Two lonely children in desperate need of a friend. Best friends. The Centre had eventually dragged them apart, but it was a lot harder to take away the memories – you couldn't forget someone who was that bigger part of your life.

Later, their relationship changed to huntress and prey, a shallow connection that was tainted and deepened by their earlier one. As the secrets had come to light, showing them just how twisted their shared past really was, the only thing that had kept them from collapsing into disaster had been the boundaries their current roles had placed on them.

Ethan had changed things again. Now they shared a brother. Parker could remember the brief panic she'd expected – without understanding why – when three years previously, Jarod had implied that the two of them were siblings. But they weren't, and as far as anyone could ascertain, the closest they came to blood was their half brother.

Until now.

Unwittingly, the Centre had placed an extremely tight bond between the sometime friends and enemies – a shared child. _Brother_ was one thing, but _son_ was another matter entirely.

And Parker, right at this moment held the power. The baby was inside _her_. _She_ could feel his movements. _She_ could feel him responding to _her_. Jarod could not.

For the first time, it was up to her to go to him. Jarod would never touch her in this situation. The pretender would never do anything that she would find a physical trespass. Once Kyle was born, he would feel perfectly happy to demand equal time and care with his son, but until then, she would have to make any moves toward him.

Reaching out, she took his hand. Jarod threw her a startled look – as close as they'd come in the last five years, touch between them was rare, and it had never been casual.

Parker ignored his initial response, knowing it would change in a moment, and placed his hand on her belly. She touched the sense that was her son and felt him shift, responding: first to her, and then to Jarod.

The look of pure shock, replaced quickly by wonder, on the pretender's face was well worth it. There weren't many times that his expressions were so open, and generally in her presence they were anger or pain.

"Miss Parker," he breathed.

"It's not conventional, but he is yours, Jarod. And mine," she added absently.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Please review._


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